


let me give you my life

by fademarked (Zephryn)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon Age Big Bang, Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Feral Behavior, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Red Lyrium, Red Lyrium Cullen, YMMV Sexual Assault, suicidal behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:11:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3900856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephryn/pseuds/fademarked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the people she expected to find in that prison cell, the former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall was not one of them. In hindsight, things might have been easier if she had just let the others kill him the moment she found him. But, this time it was her turn to save him.</p>
<p>It was the least she could do, to find a cure for Red Lyrium and repay him for all the things he had done. He was, after all, her first love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me give you my life

**Author's Note:**

> Dragon Age Kink Meme Fill for this [Prompt](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/13696.html?thread=52811648#t52811648) which basically is a Mage!Trevelyan finds her Templar Crush infected by Red Lyrium and decides to find a cure for him. Bonus Points if it's really Cullen.

Evelyn's cheeks burned, her books held tight against her chest.

He was there. Right there. Just outside the door.

She ducked her head lower, trying hard not to move or do anything, especially hide against a bookcase. Enchanter Lydia needed the books for her experiments immediately. As soon as possible, she had told Evelyn and Evelyn knew she couldn't dally. However, she wanted to. Why wouldn't she? He was there. In plain sight and his hair was tousled as if he had just came from the training yard. She almost could see a hint of sweat on his nape, a dribble of it going down the line of his neck.

The lump in her throat only seemed to get bigger by the second. To get the Enchanter, she would have to pass him and that watchful stare of his.

The very same look that seemed to make her warm from the inside out even if she knew it was more of a glare, a challenge that she should step out of line. That she would go into the wrong direction and Maker forbid, Evelyn wanted to. She wanted him to look at her all the time, like she was the only thing he could think of--even if it was for punishment. Even if she was innocent.

She wanted to be _bad_ for him.

He was the one they had stationed here for the punishments, for the extra amount of vigilance. A mad hound to be set loose if the worse should occur in _their_ Circle. 

Evelyn heard the rumors of his history. Everyone had. The talks about what happened in the circle of Ferelden was on everyone's tongues. Even if it had been only two years since it had happened. It was still a tale for many nights in the dormitories. No one could stop talking about it and often, she wondered what he thought of it. If he knew of the stories the mages would talk about, or even the Templars. His brothers and sisters, she knew, talked long and hard about the Tower in Ferelden.

But that was neither here or there. Honestly, she wasn't sure if he was even designated to be the newest disciplinary Templar for their Tower. Rumors upon rumors surrounded him and it only made him more alluring. A puzzle she wanted to solve.

A quick glance toward the arrow slit nearby and Evelyn bit her lip. She had to hurry. She was wasting too much time dawdling around and musing over her favorite templar. The Enchanter might be harsh but she was never cruel and being late in delivering a book was never going make her see the dungeons. No, at best, she'll be stuck on cleaning duty for the next week or so instead of doing her studies.

Taking a deep breath, Evelyn straightened her spine and walked toward him when suddenly a lion's gold stare froze her in place.

 

\---

 

Her breath froze in her throat. Her limbs refused to move. She could hear her companions calling her name but she couldn't, wouldn't look away from the lion's gold stare that bore into her. A gold ringed with crimson red that burned into her from behind the bars of a prison cell.

Grime matted pale wheat hair dark and damp, he was dressed in rags of what had to have been a cloak, the only thing remaining a dark fur collar that reminded one of a lion's mane. A beard the length of Blackwall's was dirt-streaked made him almost a stranger but she could still recognize him and that gaze of his. 

There was a sickly color to his pale skin, a stark aura of red seemingly emitting from beneath his flesh not unlike what she had seen from Varric and Iron Bull in that dark foreboding future back when she was still petitioning aid from the Mages in Redcliffe. 

Red crystals glimmered along his cheekbones, small peaks that defined more than disturbed his features not unlike the thin scar that bisected his upper lip. Under his cloak, he wore no shirt or armor. More Lyrium was pronounced on his collar bone, larger pieces jutting out of his bare shoulders like pauldrons. A line of spikes descended down the length of his naked arms from elbow to wrist, like the horned spines of a gauntlet. Two tattoos, one on each arm, glowed red and bright. The Sword of Mercy surrounded by flames seemed to pulse on his flesh.

Evelyn swallowed, her grip tightening on her staff.

It had been years, almost a decade, since she last saw him at Ostwick but she never have forgotten that molten gaze. She couldn't, no matter how much she tried. How much she wanted to after he had been reassigned to another Circle.

But she never remembered him being this large before. Or perhaps it was the cloak, the shadows. He wasn't standing upright. He was slouched, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists. The muscles in his arms tensed and flex, the veins becoming more pronounced with each movement. He was quiet, almost still save for that movement. His shoulders seemed broader though she never saw him out of armor, not in Ostwick. But she had guessed. Dreamed what he looked like. 

He was muscular, not heavily like the Iron Bull. But he had a wide chest tapering into tight waist with leather breeches hanging dangerously low on narrow hips. His arms were thick, just as she always thought they were.

Maker, she couldn't have been more warm than she ever been until now.

A sound to her left finally broke the spell.

She turned toward her companions when suddenly fingers dug into the front of her shirt, bunching into the seam and buttons of her enchanter's undershirt.

Evelyn gasped when she was pulled forward, slamming into the bars. Hard breathing, hot and heavy, fell on her face and the gold in that lion gaze diminished under a sea of carmine. 

" _Mage_ ," he snarled, teeth sharper than on any man. A tremor of fear chilled her spine.

The caged Templar growled into her face, eyes narrowed and Evelyn could hear the cocking of Bianca behind her. Solas shifted, his staff scrapping against the stone floor. The hiss of Cassandra unsheathing her blade came next, along with the crunch of rock underneath her heavy boots.

The hand on her chest tightened, pulling her closer.

His nostrils flared, eyes closing for a mere moment and if possible, he leaned even closer until she could swear he was digging his nose into her front. 

Tentatively, Evelyn raised her hand when a sudden crunch of noise behind her made him slam her once more into the bars. With a heartbeat, he straightened, his other arm suddenly around her neck as he turned her around. Sharp claws pressed dangerously close to her skin.

"Let her go," Cassandra stalked forward, eyes narrowed and sword upright. The rock crushed at her feet the source of the sound that provoked him. " _Now_. If you wish to keep your life."

Varric stepped forward, taking position with Bianca drawn ready. His finger, Evelyn could see, twitched over the trigger. "Don't think he understands you, Seeker. Why don't we just put the old," suddenly, his eyes went wide, jaw dropping once he finally got a good look behind her, "--Andraste's tits, _Curly?!"_

Cassandra did a double take, "No. It couldn't be." Her sword wavered slightly, dropping a tad before she held it firmly once more, "It can't...." The Seeker paused, swallowing, "Is that? Knight-Commander Cullen?" Her eyes narrowed and she came closer, only stopping when the hand on Evelyn's neck tightened, the snarling suddenly becoming louder in her ears and echoing against the walls. "By the _Maker_ , what have they done to him?"

"I do not know but I do know, we must get the Inquisitor away from him," Solas finally crossed the distance separating him the others. "He's infested, tainted by the Red Lyrium. Caged here for some reason and kept away from his peers. Clearly, something is not right with this one. "

"No kidding, I might not known a lot of Templars but Curly? He's something else," Varric muttered, "But shit, didn't think he'd end up here. Like this. What about you Seeker? Heard anything?"

She shook her head, keeping one eye on the prisoner, "Not one word. Leliana, perhaps but she said nothing. We had wanted to ask him, to be the Commander of the Inquisition but after he disappeared--"

" _Bullshit_ , he was nabbed. No doubts about it, out of the blue when no one's looking. Aveline could barely keep the city together without him," the dwarf scowled shaking his head, "We tried looking for him and to think, he was here all this time... being turned into this... _thing_." Varric sighed heavily, shaking his head, "Here I thought what happened to Bartand was bad. To Junior..."

"Perhaps," Solas coughed, "We should find a way to get him away from our Inquisitor?"

"That," Evelyn spoke slowly, trying not to distract the man (monster) with any more sudden movements, "would be nice. Please. Any time now?" 

She swallowed, more aware than anything of the neck on her throat and the arm that now rested over her waist. Her entire body was pressed against the bars and the Templar's front. His claws were sharp, tipped with Red Lyrium crystals that formed almost talons on his nails. A glance downward proved that he held her firm but not tight enough to cut her air. Despite the danger, he didn't scratch her but the deep rumbling in his throat made her think otherwise of trying to get herself free.

"As much as I may enjoy this--and I don't--Perhaps, we should, I don't know," Evelyn licked her lips, "let me loose first before we make any kind of debate?"

Like trying to find out why he was here, what happened to him, why he was in a cage of all things? Why hadn't he tried to kill her when he first grabbed her? 

Evelyn shifted slightly, holding her breath when the Templar's arms didn't move until she attempted to pry herself away further away. His grip tightened, pulling her back flush against the bars with another low snarl. Catching Cassandra's gaze, Evelyn nodded slightly when she spot the Seeker changing her grip just enough that her hand loosened on the hilt of her sword.

Loosened enough that it clanged loud against the stone floor, grabbing the Templar's attention. Evelyn felt more than saw his head jerk up, his hold loosening enough that she ducked out of them as Cassandra bashed her shield against the bars and the arms he had pushed through them. Dazed, the Templar stumbled backwards before his head snapped back upright and he grabbed for the Seeker's shield, pulling it and the Seeker back toward the cage but that was the moment Evelyn had waited for.

Purple lightning shot from her finger tips, electrifying the bars, the metal shield in Cassandra's insulted hands and the Templar's bared ones.

He howled, falling backwards with a hard shiver but Solas was ready, following Evelyn's attack with a mind burst of his own, knocking the Templar unconscious to the ground. Varric pushed Bianca through the bars, aimed and fired a modified net until it pinned the imprisoned male to the ground.

"That'll hold, not sure for how long but you alright, Books?" Varric smiled at Evelyn, features tight as he glanced back at the Templar. "Breathing alright?"

Evelyn raised a hand to her neck, rubbing the spots claw-tipped fingers had held only moments earlier, "He didn't hurt me. He just... surprised me. That's all. And you know him? You know who he is?" She stared at the rogue, biting her lower lip. 

The idea that her Templar (no, that wasn't right. He wasn't her Templar, even if she wanted him to him) was known to not just Varric but to Cassandra as well, it boggled her. All she knew of him after he left was he went to Kirkwall. He had chose to go to Kirkwall, rather than stay in Ostwick, just days before her Harrowing.

"Yeah, I do. Knight-Commander Cullen of Kirkwall. Could be a pain in the ass but he was actually one of the more levelheaded decent Templars I've met," Varric's grin widened, "Never could get him to loosen up. Even after I offered to pay him a night's stay at the Blooming Rose--at Riviani's request."

"Knight-Commander," she echoed, blinking before turning her gaze back toward the man on the floor. "He's a Knight-Commander? I... I didn't know." He had only been a Knight-Lieutenant at Ostwick. It had to have happened in Kirkwall, his promotion. In hindsight, it made sense. Of course, he would leave for a promotion than stay in the Circle with her. It was his choice, she heard days later once she noticed him missing.

Cassandra lifted an eyebrow, "You know of him?"

"He was at Ostwick. One of our Templars until he left," Evelyn answered, finally dropping her hand from her throat, "We were... acquainted. Not good friends but we knew of each other. I heard he went to Kirkwall but I didn't think he was the Knight-Commander." 

There wasn't much she knew of him, only the little things. The things she could observe in the Tower, like how he had a sweet tooth because of how many spoonfuls he put in his tea. The way he never leave his weapon behind, always keeping it at his side regardless of the hour. The rare moments he would actually smile at something when no one was around (but she was, hiding in her corner or just behind a bookcase).

"He was promoted after Knight-Commander Meredith had attempted to kill the Champion--" 

"And go crazy with the Red Lyrium, you can't forget that, Seeker." 

"He had become a good man, managed to gather the remaining Ttemplars of Kirkwall and set things right amongst the city--" 

"With Aveline's help." 

" _Enough_ ," Cassandra hissed, glaring at the dwarf who merely shrugged, eyes rolling, "As I had mentioned, if he had not vanished, we would have asked him to lead our forces. Had we the time, we would have searched for him but with the Conclave, Leliana and I decided to not do so." She sighed heavily, "Perhaps, if we chose otherwise, we could have... helped him. Saved him from this fate." Her eyes closed, as she leaned down to pick up her sword.

"What?" Evelyn's head jerked, her gaze moving from the man on the floor toward the Seeker, "What are you saying? We'll just... leave him there?"

Solas moved closer to the bars, peering between them, "The fact he hadn't hurt you is a blessing but, we must be vigilant and careful. No matter who he was in the past, he is no longer that man. You've seen the others, Inquisitor, they are more beast than anything else. It would be... a mercy, don't you think? To put him out of what misery he must be."

Evelyn stole a glance toward Varric, noting the grim expression on his face, "No. Absolutely not. He didn't hurt me. He didn't hurt any of us."

"He's infected, Books, who knows for how long. Hell, if I had to guess? Maybe since that damn bitch bought that Maker-forsaken piece of shit Idol from my brother. The fact he looks, well, better than the others, that's something but," Varric paused, resting Bianca on his shoulder, "Look, I don't like it either but, if the choice is between me living and him? I know what I'm picking. ...Even if I might have liked the guy."

"You're not killing him!" She moved back toward the bars, placing herself between them and her friends, "I won't allow it. I won't. He didn't hurt me. And if he's as good of a man as you say he was then,maybe this is our chance? Maybe we can find a cure for this disease?"

"Evelyn," Solas spoke, "There is no cure."

"Only because we haven't tried! Red Lyrium wasn't discovered until only less than a decade ago and the effects weren't known until after the Chantry in Kirkwall blew. The Templars, we... We owe it to them," Evelyn shook her head furiously, "I chose the mages, I could have easily prevented this if I had decided to save the Templars. We owe it to them to give them a cure. To find one! Isn't there enough killing already?"

"You would chance a possible threat on the basis of _curing_ Red Lyrium? Why now? Why here," Cassandra barked, "You hadn't cared one ounce about the Templar plight outside of attempting to get rid of their Red Lyrium stores. Hadn't we agreed to just break Samson's army? Why attempt cure them? They are damned. There is no cure."

"Like there's cure for Tranquility, is that it? No, we're taking him with us," she glared at them all, arms outstretched to prevent them from attacking him without going through her first. "We're taking him to Skyhold. We'll find a cure. _I'll_ find a damn cure by myself if I have to but we're not killing him, not now. Not ever. He's not like the others, Solas even said so. There had to be a reason why he's here and I intend to find out.

"You can keep him under, can't you? Until we're back," Evelyn turned toward the other mage in her party, "If we keep him sedated we should be able to handle him."

He nodded slowly, "It's possible but, whether that would be a detriment to his state, I do not know but are you certain? This is the path you wish to follow?"

Evelyn nodded, "It is. I'll pull rank if I have to but no killing. Not this man."

She owed him that much. It was the least she could do, as repayment for what he had done for her back in Ostwick so many years ago.

 

\---

 

" _Let her go_ ," a voice growled from the hallway.

Evelyn's head jerked and she fled to the other corner the moment the other Mage had loosened his grip from her. Her robes were torn, ripped from collar to waist, the buttons had popped and were lost somewhere on the floor. Her breast band had fallen and immediately, she tried to cover herself. Her magic was useless here, especially against an Enchanter of high standing. She was only an apprentice but it was late at night. No one should have been wandering the halls except--

"Now, move away from her," the very same voice barked, armor creaking as the Knight-Lieutenant strode into the room and toward Evelyn's side, "I'd thought this Circle was too quiet. Too... orderly. Should have known." He laughed darkly, "Nothing's this quiet, is it?"

A gold eyebrow rose and Evelyn ducked her head to escape catching his gaze. Her cheeks burned and she huddled against the wall, trying to make herself small.

"The girl's a blood mage. She bewitched me," Enchanter Olivier spoke, calmly as if he hadn't been caught with his pants down and robe open, "She asked for some special lessons, to prepare for her Harrowing. Why else would I be here this late?"

An armored shoulder shrugged, "The girl was screaming for help. Not exactly something a _Blood Mage_ would do." He spat the words as if they were poison and Evelyn flinched. "She's scared. Timid. Quiet.

"She's not attempting to slit my throat and you, _Mage_ ," he growled, eyes narrowed, "You are too calm for a man caught."

Olivier laughed, "Nothing will happen to me, I am one of the Senior Enchanters! I passed my Harrowing, done all the good that's been asked of me. You? You're a stranger, a new Templar they brought in as a threat. Empty and useless. What can--"

Evelyn jumped, glancing over toward the two men. The Templar had his hand around Olivier's throat, the sound of the Mage slamming into the wall was what caught her attention. The low growl in the blond templar's throat had her shivering more than ever.

"Don't underestimate me, Mage, I'm more than what you think I am. And you?" He laughed, "The Knight-Commander had thought something was off with his Mages. Blood magic, maybe. But a viper? Didn't see that happening but, I've been watching you. And her. I've seen how you've looked at her. " 

Evelyn swallowed, was that why he was always near her? He was watching Olivier, not her? But every time she looked, he was watching her. She caught him but she never thought he was looking at her as a threat. As _bait_. Her blood grew cold, her heart dropping into the pit of her stomach.

"Is that a note of jealousy, I hear, wanted to be the first one to pluck her," Olivier smiled, his grin dark and ugly on his attractive features, "You only needed to ask, Knight-Lieutenant, I would have loved to see--" The Mage gasped, eyes growing wide in surprised. "W-What... what did you do?!"

"Removed your Mana. As I've said, you don't know much about me. I'd be worrying more about you than her, right now. I could," his hand tightened on Olivier's neck, "silence you forever with none being the wiser. But, you're in luck, _Mage_ , the Knight-Commander would want you talking for a while. Probably wants to give you a trial. Useless. I know your like. Always the same." The Templar spat, slamming the Mage into the wall again until Olivier collapsed onto the floor unconscious.

Turning, gold hair caught the light of the nearby candles and Cullen knelt, hand reaching forward. Voice soft, he asked, "Are you alright? I made it in time, hadn't I?"

 

\---

 

Evelyn stared at the man behind the bars. She didn't move and neither did he.

Her hand twitched over her staff but she stood her ground. There was a fur covered cot in his cell, fresh water but he still looked no different from when they first found him in that Red Templar Encampment. No one had risked coming closer to him once he had regained conscious but everyone in the entire hold had known what Evelyn had brought with her.

Everyone had something to say about it and none had understood her. But she couldn't help it. She had to help him, she needed to. If only to pay back the time he saved her so many years ago. But there was something else, something more.

Licking her lips, she took that step forward toward the cell but still out of his reach, "You know who I am, don't you?"

" _Mage_ ," he snarled, hands at his side, head slightly bowed. He glared at her from under curly bangs. His fingers twitched, "You're a Mage."

"I am," Evelyn returned his wild stare with a calm one of her own. "I'm also your only chance. I can help you. Cure you." He just had to reach for her open hand, just like she did so many years before. "But I need your cooperation. I need to know why you were in that cell we found you."

He laughed, a harsh bark of dark amusement. "Strong." He chuckled, "Too strong. Too stubborn. Couldn't _die_." He smirked at her, "Going to kill me?"

"No, I'm not. No one will, not if I have a say in it."

"Foolish girl," he snarled, walking to his bars with a deliberate slowness, "Stupid girl. Kill me or I'll kill you. Simple. Easy. Do it."

Evelyn shook her head, "No. You had your chance, you didn't kill me. Why? You had your hand on my throat. Your... claws could have killed me in seconds. You held back. I know you did. Why?" It bothered her for days, hours if she wanted to be honest. He didn't act like he recognized her before but looking at him now, there was no denying it. He knew her. There was a glint of intelligence in his gaze that was absent in most of the Templars she faced on the field.

"Kill me," he repeated, closing his eyes. He opened them, the amber burning into her as his voice got stronger, more clearer, "Put me out of my misery. Like what your apostate friend told you."

"You're more coherent than most Red Templars. You're different. Why?" Evelyn licked her lips, noticing how his gaze seemed to track something. They darted toward her mouth, to her tongue before flickering back to meet her own. "I didn't realize you were awake during that conversation but you knew. You knew they had wanted to kill you."

He smiled, "It's what I deserve, isn't it? Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor. That's what they call you. You're her and you're a _mage_. The same girl from Ostwick, the bewitching girl. Same one the Elder One hates, the Mage that damned the Order to the Red Lyrium." He turned, his back toward her. In the light of the day, he looked no less impressive than he did in that dark cell. Tall, strong and proud. Different than the other Red Templars, so much different.

_Why?_  
She took a deep breath, her grip tightening on her staff. Before, the insult wouldn't have fazed her. In fact she wouldn't have cared. It was the truth, she had wanted the Mages instead of the Templars but something about him, seeing him there--in that prison cell. Something in her had broke then, and even now it was still breaking. "I don't think you deserve anything. Especially something like this. 

"You're a Templar, but, you were never cruel."

"Is that what you think?" He barked out another laugh, tossing a glance over his shoulder. "You're more naive than I thought you were ten years ago." Shaking his head, he turned before walking backwards to his cot, plopping down on it before peering at her behind his bangs. "I've been in one prison and then another and now, yet one more. You want to help me? Kill me. Put me down like _the damned dog I am_."

"No. You're more than this. I know you are." She had to believe that, she needed to. He had been her hero once. The Templar she could have never forgotten. There was more to him. Much more. She wouldn't abandon him. 

He scoffed, "You knew me years ago. People changed. I've changed. Put me down, Inquisitor. Do your duty. Or let me be and let me rot--just as everyone else has done."

"The man who saved me from Olivier could have easily let him do what he wanted, turned a blind eye. I am a Mage and for someone rumored to hate Mages, Knight-Commander," she stressed on his rank, eyes narrowing, "You still stood up to him, for me. I never thanked you for that, have I?"

" _That's not my title,_ Mage," he growled at her, low and dark, "Leave me. I've no more words for my captors."

"We're not your captors, we're here to help," she gritted out, taking a step closer to the bars, "Why won't you let us? Why won't you let me?"

She stood there waiting for his answer but when it finally became apparent he wasn't going to, she turned on heel and left. Evelyn gave a swift nod at the guards and stomped her way back into to her quarters. She never remembered him being so damn _stubborn_ , but then again? What did she know?

He was right, people had changed. She was no longer that innocent apprentice from the Circle. She was the Inquisitor. She was more than he thought. Just as he was more than a beast in a cell far below Skyhold. She had to help him. She wanted to.

 

\---

 

The book in front of her was useless. It only described the effects of Lyrium withdrawal. There was testimonies of Templars and the Seekers that had watched over them. She'd thought it would be a start, something to consider but nothing implied anything about removing Lyrium from the Templar outside of deprivation.

It was the removal that she wanted, not the signs and symptoms. They would be useful, in the future, if she succeeded and she would. She will. She was one of the best scholars in the Ostwick Circle. Her work was renowned, her name well known for being one of the youngest avid researchers. True, her work didn't include Lyrium but she had to do something. Evelyn promised herself that. She promised _him_ , even if he thought it was empty.

"Night terrors, hard shivers, headaches, muscle fatigue, hallucinations," she muttered each word in the passage, ignoring the painful throbbing in her neck from slouching so much. "No, no, no damn it!"

Slamming the book close, Evelyn stood up, thrusting a hand into her bangs and combing through her dark locks hard with her fingers. She grunted, grabbing the book in one hand before throwing it toward the pile near the trash where it landed on the heap of other useless _tomes_ she had suffered through reading before rejecting them all. "Useless, absolutely _useless_!"

Collapsing back in her chair, she combed her bangs with her fingers. Gathering the strands that fell into her eyes, her mouth behind her ears, Evelyn shrugged and threw her long chestnut braid back over her shoulder. She should rebraid the damn thing, make it neat once more. The once tight plait had already started fraying. Her long hair was starting to get into the way of everything.

Yet, all she could think about was that Templar and nothing else. It had been days since she last spoke with that damn Templar. Days since she bothered to check the prison cells.

It was quiet in Skyhold, a rarity. There was no judgments to be cast, no War Council meetings to attend. Commander Rylen had everything under control in terms of their forces, meager as they were. Spies and Diplomats was the Inquisition's strength and they used them freely and frequently.

Cassandra's words echoed through her and grasping her goblet, Evelyn sipped at her wine. "He could have been our Commander," she muttered, "If the Maker had been kind, I could have... met him before, in Haven."

Evelyn smiled softly, tilting her drink this way and that. "He'd probably tell me to go after the Templars for aid. Once a Templar, always a Templar, right?" 

Rylen might have left the Order but even now, he still took Lyrium, still thought like a Templar but he wasn't the best. He had been a Knight-Captain before Cassandra had recruited him. Yet, he had done so much but he could do so much _more_ still as a leader. Or perhaps, she was putting too much pressure on the man. He hadn't been trained to lead an army. He only volunteered because there was a need but he hadn't wanted it in the first place--the power and the responsibility. 

Yet, there was no doubt in her mind, their Forces needed to be better. The Red Templars were a problem and they didn't have an army strong enough to push them back.

It was a miracle, really, on how much success they had made with their forces.

Sighing, Evelyn leaned back in her chair and took another drink of her wine. Lifting her hand, she examined the greenish glow of the Mark with a bemused smile. "The Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor, with all my titles... I cannot help one Templar? I'm not an apprentice. I'm not a simple Mage. I'm more than that and yet," She scowled, brows pinching, " _nothing_. I've found absolutely _nothing_!"

Resting her head on the wood of her desk, she groaned heavy before sitting upright.

"Pain. Darkness. The singing it won't _stop_. Temptation, damnation. Demon song, not like before. Distorted and screaming, never ending. Never stopping. Why, why me?"

"Cole," Evelyn breathed, turning her head toward the door. "You know you shouldn't do that."

"I thought... it would help. You want to help him," Cole replied, appearing at Evelyn's side as if he was always there, "You want to save him. I can help."

Shaking her head, Evelyn responded, "By invading privacy? That's not helping. I mean, I want to help. I have to but, he won't let me damn it."

Licking his lips, Cole crossed his arms and shifted slightly, "He's... frightened. Afraid. _Don't get close, don't come near. Don't want to hurt. This isn't me. it's not. It can't be. Damned for my past, always trapped. Never free. Leashed to Lyrium, always a monster._ I don't think I like him. He feels... different from the others. Not like the Templars. Not like Rylen. Not like the Red ones."

Evelyn blinked, "You sense that too?"

"He's fighting. Trying to control it. But he can't. It's too strong. _Blood under my nails, her blood. Her face under my claws. I caused this._ I don't think he likes himself too much."

"I don't think he does either," Evelyn smiled sadly, "Why do you think he's different? You sense something more about him."

"Beastly. He reminds me.. of the Fade. Touched by it. Not like me but, similar?" Cole shook his head, head tilting slightly, "I thought when I saw him I'd recognize another like me but he's not. He's touched and yet he's still him. And more. I don't know what he is."

Evelyn swallowed, "Is it the Lyrium? The Red Lyrium?"

"The song's there but it's fractured and something is trying to come through? I don't like him when he's angry and he's very angry. Right now. _Claws scratching stone. It hurts but it's good. Distraction, not letting me think. Feel. Blood, need more blood. My blood. Bleed for my sins._ There's something inside him, trying to break through. It reminds me," Cole paused, looking away from Evelyn before finally meeting her gaze, "of Rage and something else."

"Something else," her eyebrow rose and she stared at her friend, "What kind of something else?"

"I don't--He's hurt," Cole's head snapped toward Evelyn's bedroom door, "They're scared. Yelling for help. _The bars won't hold._ "

She stiffened, her chair falling to the ground as Evelyn stood up. "What do you mean the bars won't hold?" Evelyn's breath caught in her throat.

Cole only stared toward the door and the stairs just beyond, "Bending, breaking. They're afraid. He's getting louder, angrier. They want to stay but they want to run. _Hands twitching. He'll break out, then what? I'm next. He'll kill me. Better him than me. I'll--_ "

" _Enough._ " Evelyn cut him off, rushing toward the door, her light sleeping robe billowing behind her. "I won't let them kill him and Maker help me, Cole, you'll help me stop them if we have to. He's not dying. Not on my watch and not because of some fool guard's twitching finger, damn it." Her hair came undone, tie tumbling on to the stairs as she raced down toward the prison cells.

The full moon lit her path, ominous in its brightness.

Roars echoed off the walls as she made her way to the bowels of Skyhold. She could hear the screams, the sound of steel against stone. A gigantic thud against creaking metal sounded, again and again. Her heart jumped into her throat, recognizing the sound. She heard it before, it was a Behemoth charging toward her and her party with only a wooden wall with steel supports between them. But there was no Behemoth, not in Skyhold. There was only--

Evelyn flung open the only door that stood between the rest of Skyhold and the prison just in time to see the Templar make another charge, another failed attempt to break out of his cell.

The bars had been bent. In the light of the moon, his muscles spasm and grew more pronounced, the glint of Red Lyrium was more apparent. Before her, a line of five guardsmen had already drawn steel. Rylen was among them, at the forefront, barking orders about holding a line. Behind her, she could hear the pound of heavy feet and knew reinforcements were coming. Archers, if she had to guess. They already had a front line of warriors. She knew enough of tactics, the only thing missing were Archers.

"Rylen," Evelyn called out, signaling to the man before joining him. She flinched when the Templar struck the bars of his cell. "What happened?"

"Suddenly went rabid, Jim mentioned that once the sun went down, his eyes went red. Started prowling in his cell, tearing at his hair. Wasn't until an hour ago he started doing that," Rylen jerked his head toward the prison bars. His eyes narrowed at her, scowl forming as his brogue deepened, "What were you thinking, bringing in that thing? He's a danger to all of us if those bars won't hold. Matter of time till they give out, lass."

He was right, she knew it. The steel were only two more assaults away from shattering. They were so far bent, that prison cell would no longer hold anything inside. But the Templar's attack hadn't been without cost. Looking past them, Evelyn could see darkish red hues mingling in the Templar's tunic, a different red than the Lyrium that encrusted his shoulders. Blood, so much blood. Evelyn forced back a flinch at the thought of how much pain he must be in now.

"I brought him here in hopes of finding a cure," she repeated herself for Maker knows the nth time.

"Right, cure. Got it." The man gave a shake of his head before withdrawing his own sword from its sheathe, "Like that's going to work. I've seen what these men could do, Evelyn. Took a squad down in front of my own eyes. Tore them into pieces and you bring one of those bastards here? Who gives a shit of what he was before the war?"

"I do, Commander and if you know what's--"

They jumped, every single person in the room when the bars finally gave. They crashed onto the floor and all eyes turned back toward the Templar. Silence and paralysis took over for one heartbeat before chaos erupted. 

The Mark pulsed in Evelyn's hand. 

Two guards charged at the Templar, swords drawn high but the Templar sidestepped the blows, shoulder bashing one in the abdomen before giving a round kick to the other. A roar erupted from him as he straightened, acting almost as if he was a wolf in howl. Evelyn blinked, taking a step back as the next wave of soldiers came after him but were swiftly taken down.

Whistling arrows flew past her ears, barely missing her but broken in midflight by a strong arm. 

"Get Her Worship out of here," Rylen yelled, taking a step in front of Evelyn. "And where's that backup I requested? You can't be all of it!" The former Knight-Captain growled, shield held high before he went into a shoulder tackle of his own. Except it was a feint, he dropped at the last second, turning his sword to smash the pommel into the Templar's throat.

Shrugging the hard grip on her elbow, Evelyn closed her eyes for a moment and threw a hand before her. Making a fist, she gathered the pebbles and the other debris before forming another fist--one of earth-- and smashing it into the Templar's head, interrupting him just as he was about to bash Rylen's head with his elbow.

It knocked him to the side, unbalancing him before he turned and a fully red glare settled on her. Supernatural wind spun at her feet and Evelyn smirked. Purple magic crackled in her palm before she waved her hand in front of her, a glyph forming before balls of thunder soared and smashed into the Templar. Not hard enough to make him fall but hard enough to take a step back.

Rylen, taking the opportunity, slammed the side of his broadsword into the Templar's side with the force to push him to one knee. 

But he didn't stay there for long. With a grunt, he swung out with one arm, launching from his crouching position to grapple at Rylen's legs, knocking the other man to the ground. Arrows landed mere inches from his head but he ignored it, snarling into the other man's face. Evelyn narrowed her eyes, tracking them as they wrestled with one another. Rylen's sword slide far from his grasp. The Templar's claws gorged at the ground, tearing through the stone as if it was nothing. 

She had to time it at the precise moment or she'd hit her Commander. 

"Inquisitor!" Evelyn ignored it, firing a lightning bolt at the Templar's spine but he only brushed it off with a full body shake.

Releasing Rylen, Evelyn gasped when he launched at her, grabbing her by the throat, other arm around her waist. They hit the wall, the Templar taking the blow with his shoulder before turning. Evelyn's robe tore, the fabric ripping against the masonry.

Someone cried out her name and she could hear the crackle of magic but then there was a rush of energy. Silence broke by dry heaving--her own and Solas. Vivianne's, too. She couldn't hear anything else, no one's words. Absolutely nothing. Evelyn's eyes flew open, her breath caught her in throat along with her heart. The hand on her neck tightened, the Templar leaning close and finally closing the distance until she could feel his teeth on her skin, his breath hot against her flesh.

He growled, thrusting one leg between her own, forcing them apart. Evelyn's eyes darted toward the others. 

There Cassandra stood, Blackwall at her side and Iron Bull aiding Rylen. Varric had Bianca ready, Sera juggling a grenade with a worried look. Dorian remained next to Solas and Vivienne, gritting his teeth at the sudden loss of his Mana. Archers and swordsmen lined the walls, filing in front of the only entrance other than the cliff edge. Daring not to breath or move, Evelyn chanced a glance toward the Templar.

" _Mage_ ," he growled at her, just like before when they first found him. His eyes glowed brighter, gold and crimson from underneath dark bronze eyelashes. Evelyn swallowed, feeling tremors intensify against her. Trembling, he was trembling and it grew powerful when her friends, her Inner Circle, stalked closer. The Templar tightened his hold, pulling her close with his head ducked into her neck.

His claws were a hair's width away from ripping her into pieces.

"Again, I say it," Cassandra spoke slowly, "Let her _go_."

Snarling, the Templar clenched Evelyn close, inhaling sharply. Loud. The ragged beard scraped at her neck, her bared collarbones. Evelyn clenched her teeth, holding her breath. They wouldn't save her in time, not with the way his claws pressed against her through the thin layers of her robe, her night dress.

"Leave... us," he finally hissed, not moving from his place against Evelyn. His voice had deepened, low and dark. He spoke slowly as if it was an effort to even open his mouth. Each word he lashed out incited a shiver down Evelyn's spine, "Or I'll... rip her... to _shreds_. Then... where would you be... _Seeker_ without your... Herald?"

He lifted his head slightly, turning it to glare at them all. The Holy Smite he had used was still in effect, weakening Evelyn's bones. Her heart was like a hummingbird's wings, always fluttering, rapid and never stopping. Every time she thought she could feel some of her Mana restore, it was drained away, keeping her on her toes, on the edge. She could only speculate how the other Mages were feeling.

"Oh _sod off already_!" Sera screamed, throwing the grenade at their feet but the Templar was faster still, grabbing Evelyn and throwing her into his cell as it exploded. 

Light flashed but it wasn't magic or even manmade. It was red, horrible red pillar of lightning striking from the heavens it seemed. It erupted, knocking everyone back. The Templar roared once more, crouching in front of his cell.

" _Leave us_ ," he spoke clearer now, more commanding, "Or I'll tear all your throats!" His hands twitched, creating fists before he released them. The talons that had been his nails grew longer, the aura around him even more brighter and redder. The Lyrium on his body pulsed in tandem with his aura. Another tainted Wrath of Heaven struck the ground, forcing everyone back and away. The Holy Smite, if possible, grew stronger, draining Evelyn's Mana even faster. 

Evelyn stumbled to her feet, grappling with the walls of his cell to move forward. Biting her lip, she slipped but he was there, catching her and holding her close. Almost tender if not for the avid snarls he sent toward the others. It would be so easy for him to kill her in that very moment but he didn't. 

She swallowed, "Cassandra. I think... I'd listen to him." She threw a frightful look at the Seeker. "He's not going to kill me. But I think, if you press him, he might kill the rest of you."

"Absurd, the moment we leave, you're dead," Cassandra spat, her sword drawn and shifting her in her grip. Dressed in her night clothes, she was far from the armored visage Evelyn was used to but it was the middle of the night. No one save the guards were dressed for battle. "I told you before, we should have killed him."

Opening her mouth, Cole cut off any reply, "He won't harm her. He's fighting it but he's losing. It's easier with her. Here. But he doesn't like us here. Doesn't think he can hold back."

"Kid, what the hell are you talking about?" Varric threw a look at the sudden appearance of the missing Rogue. "He had his hands on her. Fuck, if I didn't know better, he was thinking she'd be a good meal."

"Yes, Cole, what do you mean?"

"It's quieter, with her. He likes her. But it's getting loud. Awfully loud. He doesn't like us. He thinks we're the threat. Not her," Cole shook his head, "I can help. I want to help and he wants us gone but--"

Dorian stepped forward, "If we leave, and not saying that we will, you'll be able to keep an eye on our... guest? Make sure everything's all fine and dandy? Convenient but not that I doubt your ability to reappear at your leisure, though. What's to stop him from changing his mind?"

"He won't," Cole spoke firmly, hands on his daggers, "And I can make sure, I can do this. This isn't helping. I don't like him but _she_ likes him."

"Lovely, Inky got herself a rabid Templar and we're just gonna let him have her alone with it," Sera scowled, reaching for another grenade, "Can't we just, I don't know, arrow to the face? All the sodding arrows. Maybe some bees. Lots of bees."

"I don't know, he looks cornered," Bull answered, great axe resting on his shoulder, "Ready to tip to the edge but he isn't hurting her. Look, he's holding her. Gentle. Did the same thing earlier until you threw that grenade at 'em and then look what happened. Bam, Wrath of Heaven, Red Templar style. Gotta say, I think the kid's right. He might just be... I don't know defending her."

"However can you tell? He was holding her hostage and he's clearly out of his mind," Vivienne droned on, "Darling, we might as well put him out of his misery. No Templar I've known would like to end up like this and haven't you mentioned he was a Knight-Commander? Clearly, dear, this is far from something he'd have wanted." Raising her staff, Vivienne brandished the blade toward the Templar, "I say one final blow. All at once--"

" _No one is killing anyone,"_ Evelyn screamed, drawing all attention back to her. She leaned against the door of the cell, just behind the Templar. "Just leave already. I've got this. _Trust me_." She ended with a plea, eyes boring into Cassandra who grunted and finally sheathed her sword before turning on heel and stomped out of the room. Everyone exchanged stares before doing the same though Sera through one worried look over her shoulder, Varric giving a grim nod. Dorian sighed heavily, tossing a wave as he marched out, forcing Vivienne back outside with Blackwall behind as Cole and Solas took the rear.

Rylen scowled but ordered his troops, remaining to be the last one to leave before tossing a heated glare at the Templar.

The door swung close and suddenly he was on her, breathing on her neck, arms tight around her waist.

" _Mage_ ," he whispered against her neck, pulling her close. His entire chest seemed to tremble with the deep low-emitting growl he gave, walking her back toward his Cell until the back of her knees hit the cot.

Evelyn tumbled backwards, robe slipping off to reveal one bare shoulder. 

Licking her lips, Evelyn choked out, "We should... talk! You and I? Preferably without you trying to kill me?"

The Templar shook his head, rubbing his beard against her neck almost as if he was nuzzling her. He moved between her legs, forcing them open. Evelyn swallowed, hands pushing at his shoulders but he wouldn't bulge. She froze, his tongue pressed against her neck, wet and hot. Rough like sandpaper. He lapped at the junction where her neck and shoulder met. Teeth skimmed over her flesh, the sharpness teasing but not puncturing. She could almost feel fangs brushing against her skin.

His hands dropped from her shoulders, to her waist and then to her thighs, pushing them further aside. He mumbled one word, groaning low and Evelyn bit back a scream for help to call back for aid when she specifically ordered them all away. She gasped when something brushed against her, fitting almost perfectly between her legs. Large and formable, like the rest of him, hard and stiff. A molten flame surged inside her, rushing to meet where that bulge pressed against her.

Her eyes grew wider and her mouth dropped. The Templar pulled back, red still vibrant in his gaze. He licked his lips and smiled, the scar over his lip pulling upwards, a thin white line that parted his moustache. Evelyn's heart raced faster.

"Mine," He grunted, staring down at her, " _Mine_." His face burrowed deeper into her neck, the flat of his tongue pressed on her flesh. Evelyn shivered, her hands gripping the thin blanket that covered the cot. His hips buckled, forcing his arousal harder into her cleft. Hands bruised her hips, the hold unrelentingly firm but he didn't touch her with his claws.

Evelyn's blood burned, her cheeks scorching . Warmth coiled in her belly, heating her insides and making her quake. Her hands flexed on against his shoulders, palms pressed against the broad scarred skin. He towered over her, it was more apparent now than ever. He was at least a head and a half taller, more muscled and more broad. The thin tunic he wore had been torn away in the scuffle with the Inquisition soldiers, leaving him bare chest against her.

Too hot, so hot. She wouldn't be surprised if her clothes would catch on fire.

Lips trailed upward, teeth nibbling on her skin until he mouthed at just below her collar bone. He pulled her flush to him, almost forcing her to bear his weight but he didn't crush her. A harsh vibrato hummed in his throat. If she was hard pressed to guess, Evelyn would say he was purring at her. His hands tugged at her robe, at the hem of her pants and smalls. 

Breaking contact, he licked his lips and descended on her once more. He captured her mouth, thrust his tongue between her lips, forceful yet gentle.

Evelyn gasped, fingers curling against his. He took advantage, thrusting his hips against her, drawing another squeal before rutting against her clothed core. She moaned, involuntarily, eyes falling shut. His teeth bit her lower lip, tongue soothing the hurt. His hands pulled her pants lower until they were just pass her hips.

Her eyes snapped opened and Evelyn stiffened. His only clue before she pulled her hand back and slammed her palm --the left palm-- into his chest. The Veil sparked to life around them, and Evelyn _pulled_ at it hard. She tore her mouth from his, eyes narrowed before widening as she slammed a Veil Strike directly into him at point blank, throwing him off her. He crashed into the bars of his cell.

"I will not be _toyed_ with, Templar," she scowled, feeling her Mana finally replenish in whole now that he had dropped his guard. Slowly, she stood, hand set in front of her with the green of her Anchor bursting to life.

She lifted her arm, ready to bring forth another bolt of lightning but he growled, charging toward her Evelyn ducked to the side, barely avoiding hitting the wall. Fisting her hand, she threw more salvos of Energy at him, pushing him back toward the entrance of his cell until he had nowhere to go save for the entry way but she threw down a quick Static Cage on him, forcing him to say with the bars at his back. 

Evelyn closed her eyes briefly and the Anchor erupted, green light flooded into the room. A rift howled into existence, appearing behind him, just outside the cell bars. Wind raged around them, sucking everything it could inside but not the Templar, Evelyn made sure of it. The bars would hold him in place, rather than drag him into the Fade. She wouldn't kill him. Never if she had a choice but she refused to let him think she was a damsel in distress any longer.

Here, she was the Inquisitor. This was her home.

Here, she ruled and judged with a fair hand.

The Templar yowled, screaming when a darkness seemed to overlay over him. Evelyn's head shot up at the sight. Pieces of Red Lyrium suddenly broke off his shoulders, being sucked into the Rift. The reddish glow that had been his companion grew dimmer as the dark aura became more prominent. The shadow that descended over him moved, its claws grasping at the bars, at the walls. Anything it could feasibly get a grip but it could hold nothing. Not even when it dug back into the Templar's shoulder, drawing blood--an impossibility if it wasn't truly there.

He howled, thrashing against the bars.

Evelyn narrowed her eyes, the green light of her rift almost making that shadow look familiar. Like something she had seen before but then the Rift was gone. The shadow darkened, still clinging to the Templar as he slumped to the floor.

He groaned, eyes closed tight before lifting one hand to his head. "What... happened?"

Looking up, gold devoid of red stared at Evelyn's forest green eyes, "You... you did this. Made it quiet." Swallowing, the Templar stood on shaking legs, keeping his distance from her with his back still at the bars. "What... did you do?"

"I don't know but," Evelyn stepped forward, "Are you still you?" He looked calm, tamed. He hadn't snarled at her, nor did he move. Watched her warily from where he stood as if she was the threat and not him. 

"For the first time in ages," he swallowed, massaging his temples, "I feel like myself." Taking a deep breath, he slumped forward before sliding down the bars to sit. "Again, _what did you do?_ "

"Used the Mark. Made a Rift, you know, Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste things," Evelyn quipped, tugging her robe tighter around her, suddenly conscious of how he stared at her. His eyes glowed brighter but not with fiery red. With molten gold this time. She didn't think he was even aware of how he licked his lips, his gaze flickering to her neck. "It helped, right?"

He shook his head, "I don't know. I feel... different. But I feel it coming back. The need to hunt, to claim. I... You should go." He forced himself to look away, "Before I succumb again to... that thing inside me." He gulped, staring at his hands as if for the first time in forever. Clenching his fists, he growled low before slamming one onto the floor.

"Use Silverite. It... burns," the Templar admitted, shifting to give her room to leave without coming too close within his arm's reach, "Iron is useless against my strength. Sunstone is better if you don't have enough. But I think, for your sake," he swallowed loudly, shaking his head and giving her even more distance, "you should leave."

Evelyn's lips tightened, "What if I don't want to leave? What then?"

"Then I shall make your rogue friend come to your rescue and have him kill me," he smirked darkly, "There's silverite in one of his daggers. I just merely have to provoke him into using it." He chanced a glance at her, face relaxing in his resignation. "I told you before, you should kill me. Perhaps you should rethink that. You've seen what I've done. What I am capable of."

"I think," Evelyn answered, "You're capable of much more than you think you do. You had your chance. Several times, to kill me. You didn't. And you didn't hurt to kill, only impair. Even in your earlier state."

"Only because you're here, foolish stupid girl," he spoke cryptically, "Only because you're here, Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan."

She shuddered, her nerves trembling at the sound of her full name from his lips.

"Cullen," she breathed his name, the first time since their reunion. His pupils dilated, the black overtaking the gold for but only a moment, "Don't push me away. Please. Not again."

"It's for your own good, now go."The Templar once known as Cullen lifted his head, eyes burning into hers. "If you had any respect for me all those years ago, do this. Evelyn, know that this is for best. For your own good. And mine."

Her nails dug into her palms, hands tightly fisted on her ruined robe. She glared at him, her own dark emerald stare burning into his. Memories of their time in the Circle, after Olivier had been made tranquil, fluttered and she pushed it back, forcing them back into the locked box she kept them. "I'm trying to help you," she forced out between clenched teeth."

"You can't help one who doesn't want to be helped," Cullen smirked at her, that scar drawing her gaze. "But if you want to make me more comfortable before my demise. A razor would be nice. Might as well meet my Maker looking somewhat presentable." He chuckled, finding amusement in his dark humor.

Evelyn stormed toward him, her hand moving before she even knew it. She smacked him with enough force his cheek struck the bars next to his head. His arm darted out, pulling her until she fell on top of him. Their lips met, closed and heated against each other. Soon, teeth, hers and his, fought each other, nipping at the other's mouth. Evelyn grabbed at his hair, pulling at the strands but then he pushed against her, throwing her outside his cell until she skid against the floor.

"Don't _tempt_ a monster, Evelyn," he spoke lowly with a growl, red bleeding back into his gaze ever so slowly, "Leave while you still have a chance. I... promise I won't fight."

Leaning back, he rested his head against the bars and didn't look at her. She said nothing, glaring at his back, trying to burn holes in it. "I'm not the same girl you left in Ostwick, Cullen. Don't treat me like I'll break."

He said nothing and Evelyn waited a heartbeat before storming out.

Cole met her in the hall, his hand on a dagger hilt but she said nothing. She stomped her way back to her quarters, knowing Rylen would take care of it. Of him. As he always did and he'd obey her order, to the letter. Everyone in Skyhold knew by now there was something between her and that Templar. If they hadn't, tonight's events surely said otherwise.

 

\---

 

It was late. She should be in bed but she waited for him in the library, in the darkness. He was on patrol tonight. She knew it because she memorized it months before, when he first arrived. He always patrolled past the library on the fourth day, on the tenth bell toll. He patrolled alone.

Evelyn huddled in the shadows, pulling her robe tighter around her. She could easily warm herself with a small fireball in her palm but she didn't want to risk attracting anyone else's attention.

Not when he made an effort to avoid her since that incident weeks ago. No matter how many times she tried to approach him, he kept eluding her. But now, not anymore. She won't allow it.

Olivier was gone, made Tranquil and sent away into some other Circle in the Free Marches. The Knight-Commander had been generous, kind even, to allow her a set of quarters to herself. At least until the next apprentice came to the Circle for learning but she didn't care, she enjoyed the solitude. The quiet of having a room to herself for the first time in years and yet, it wasn't what she wanted.

She wanted to see him. To talk to him.

To thank him.

He saved her and Maker only knew what else might have happened. They found _things_ in Olivier's possessions. Blood Magic tomes. A lot of them that might have originated from other Circles. Just thinking of them gave her the shivers. Once, she had thought of having him as a mentor but choose Lydia instead.

Lydia nurtured her need for research, of learning more. Of learning everything there was about Creation magic and the Elementals. It was good choice and already she had quickly became Lydia's assistant in almost everything. She might complain about the workload, about being assigned fetching duties but she loved her mentor as she would a mother. 

Olivier was only a mere acquaintance to her. One she might have thought more of if she had the time. 

He certainly was attractive enough, had the right amount of charisma but the moment she saw the new Templar, any thoughts of that vanished.

Evelyn licked her lips. It was almost time. 

Already she could hear the sound of armored feet against stone coming closer. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out the moment he appeared. 

Cullen paused, staring at her for a moment. Evelyn, for her part, looked sheepish and she shrugged slightly before she strode forward. "Ser Cullen," she greeted with a nod of her head, "I've... been meaning to talk with you." Her smile faltered slightly, his face unchanging as she came closer but this close, and Evelyn could see the strain in his face. The fatigue and the ever greater dark circles underneath his eyes.

"Apprentice Trevelyan," he nodded briefly, glancing on her for a moment before turning his gaze elsewhere, "Soon to be Enchanter from what I hear."

Evelyn blinked, "My Harrowing is to happen?" Mages were never told when their Harrowings were to occur. To even have one rumor of warning, it was more than enough for a mage to _prepare_ , to anticipate. To strengthen their mental defenses.

The Templar nodded absently, one hand falling on the pommel of his sword, "So I've gathered. Perhaps you should spend such time getting ready for it. Preparing yourself to battle demons in the Fade. Such as," he paused, "going to bed? The hour is late."

"I know but," Evelyn bit her lip, "I would like to speak with you, if that's alright." Standing this close to him and already she could feel her knees buckling from nerves. He was so tall, just a head taller than her though perhaps an inch or two more in his boots. His goatee was trimmed but there was still some longer stubble along his jawline. He looked older, more worn than he thought him to be. "I've never had the chance to... thank you for what you've done. For what happened."

"It's nothing." He answered her too sharply, eyes flickering at her direction, "And mages shouldn't be out of their dorms at this hour."

"I know but, you haven't made it easy for me to speak with you," she smiled again, forcing it to brighten despite the butterflies in her stomach, "I hadn't thought there were anyone nearby and Oli--" She cut herself off, swallowing hard before restarting again, "He mentioned he had made sure that no one would be coming that way. At that time of night."

Cullen nodded, "Perhaps the Templars he bribed told him so. The ones meant to patrol that night have been disciplined, you have no worry for that." Closing his eyes briefly, he took in a deep breath before meeting her gaze. "Fraternization is not allowed in the Circle, only trouble would come of that and you, despite what has occurred, are breaking rules. Mages _should_ be in their dorms. Asleep.

"I... appreciate that you wish to thank me, however, I was doing my _job_."

"Ser Cullen, I--"

"You shouldn't thank me," Cullen interrupted her, his neutral gaze turning into a glare, "You know nothing of me and yet, you look at me. Think of me as something more than what I am." He laughed lowly, "You think of me as a hero because what I've done for you. I'm not. Far from it. You've stared at me before and I allowed it but no more. No _more_.

"If you've known the things I've done in Kinoch, the things I've said," he breathed in deep, exhaling loud, "you wouldn't look at me the way you do. You would not look at me like I've seen _her_ look at me. I've aided you because I am a Templar. I am to protect mages," his voice turned bitter, harsh and dark, "from the dangers of the Fade, Demons and even themselves.

"You look at me as if I'm some Hero," he growled at her, taking a step closer until his breath was hot on her face, "I am _not_ but Andraste be my witness, I will not allow another be helpless in front of me!"

He heaved, shoulders shaking and Evelyn stared, shock and frozen. She raised a hand, tentatively reaching for him but he jerked out of her reach before she could make contact. 

"Serah, please. I only want to show my gratitude," Evelyn murmured softly, not dropping her hand. "I don't know how but I--"

"You've done enough."

Evelyn dropped her hand, "I'm a good listener. I don't gossip or make rumors. Something is troubling you, I see that and whatever it is... you're not getting help for it. Perhaps I could--"

"No," he glared at her harder, "This is my burden. My issue. Not yours." Cullen breathed, forcing himself to relax, "Whatever you have to offer, it would not be enough, _Mage_." He growled at her title, forcing a barrier of their roles in the Circle to erect between them. "But, if you wish to do something then never become helpless, ever again. Don't ever allow yourself. Save yourself next time so I won't have to."

Gold flashed and he strode past her, taking care not to touch or even brush her with his armor. "Now go back to your dorms before you land yourself in Solitary, Trevelyan. The next patrol isn't to pass her for another bell's toll. Even time for you to..."

"Cullen, I," Evelyn grabbed at his wrist but nothing could prepare herself from having her back slam into the nearest wall. Her head slammed against the bricks and suddenly armor was pressed into her front.

"Do not _tempt_ me, Mage," he snarled into her face, breath hot and only millimeters separating their mouths, "Do not place me on a pedestal. Do not think more of me than what I am. Do not _tempt_ me. I've sworn never, ever, to be tempted to be bewitched. Never again. Never, ever, _again_." 

He stepped back, close enough she could still feel his anger and his breath on her face. "Go back to your dorms, Mage. Be a good girl like you always have been. You follow rules. Do not attempt to find out what happens when they are _broken_ , not with someone like me." With that, he spun on heel and walked off, never taking a glance back at her or even to see if she was bruised or injured from his manhandling.

Evelyn stared, sliding down the wall until she sat on the floor. She followed him until the shadows had swallowed him whole. Her lips quivered and she huddled, arms wrapping around her legs.

"But," she whispered," What if I _want_ to?" _With you?_

 

\---

 

Evelyn screamed, lightning surging from the end of her staff as she swung. 

One breath, one twist of the wrist, another breath and a slash with the blade end of her weapon. One heartbeat and one step toward the right. Pause for another moment then attack. Stone Fist into the Terror Demon that spawned at her feet. 

It was a pattern she had grown all too familiar with but unlike her usual preference in battle, she took a more aggressive stance. Static Cage, Energy Blasts, every single Storm spell in her arsenal used in conjunction to her Rift specialty. She became a furious force all on her own. One that could drive fear into her enemies. The green of her rift magic mingled with the violet for Storm. Combinations of spell after spell struck demon after demon. 

In the corner of her eye, she could see Blackwall glancing at her every other minute warily. But she paid him no mind. There was a release in battle, a bit of stress relief that made it easier, so much easier to forget her frustrations. To work through it all.

Damn him, that bastard Templar in Skyhold's jail. Damn him to the Void and back.

She gritted her teeth, closing her eyes for a moment before a rift of her own design burst into life and sucked not just one but a three Terror Demons back into the Fade whence they came.

Her fist tightened with purpose and she heaved heavily, leaning against her staff at the brief moment's respite. The next wave would come soon, stronger than the last.

"You know, we should get you frustrated more often," Varric cajoled at her side, eyebrow raised. Bianca was posed ready, aimed at the pulsing Rift before them. "Dare I ask what Curly did to you?" His brows waggled, finger twitching ever so slightly over the trigger.

In the days after the incident in the dungeons, Evelyn said nothing about what occurred between her and their prisoner. She only mentioned he wasn't a threat, that he will not harm anyone and only requested a razor. A razor. Not even new clothes, just a sharp blade. Leliana herself gave him the knife but from what the Spymaster had claimed, he only used it to shave before handing it back. He acted normal, human. Nothing like the monster that went on a rampage just hours before but it didn't stop the entirety of Skyhold from being afraid of him.

The soldiers Rylen assigned to watch him were chosen for their experience and discretion. They were loyal men who would not attack or kill him. In their reports, Evelyn read that their prisoner did nothing, said nothing. Only muttered under his breath and occasionally flex his hands.

One guard mentioned, he watched Cullen had some semblance over the claws on his hands, being able to retract and unsheathe them at will. Another guard mentioned he would sometimes glow more red, a bright red before it would fade as if it was never there. More questions for them to ask. More things for Evelyn to research and find answers for. More reasons for her Inner Circle to repeatedly ask that she kill him, for her own sake and that of the Inquisition.

Evelyn grunted, teeth gritting against each other, "I don't want to talk about it." 

The blade of her staff remained pointed at the rift. She tossed a glare at Varric for good measure. The time away from Skyhold was supposed to be helpful but it wasn't. It only made her want to think about that damn Templar even _more_.

Every Red Templar that attacked made her briefly imagine it was Cullen lunging at her throat, his claws drawn and ready to slice her into shreds. Each Red Templar she killed wore the Knight-Commander's face and her heart sunk. Horribly. She froze every single time she delivered a death blow.

One would think the years since she first met him would make her immune to his... charm. It didn't.

Biting her lip, Evelyn's breath shook. This was what? The second rift they found during this sojourn of the Hinterlands? Not bad. They were one step closer to ensuring the safety of the Crossroads and the citizens of Redcliffe. But it wasn't enough, there was still more Rifts out there. All over Thedas. And they weren't any step closer to defeating Corphyeus. The Empress was still in danger and Hawke and her Warden friend were still doing surveillance in the Western Approach.

So much to do and so little time and even now, she still can't help but let her thoughts drift back to that damn Templar.

The Rift pulsed, the aura almost blinding before the all too recognizable boom exploding into the clearing. Evelyn dug her feet but instead of a demon charging at her, an arrow fletching slicing at her cheek. She stiffened, twisting and throwing orb after orb of condensed Lighting at her attacker. Varric grunted beside her, recoiling as Bianca shot her own wave of bolts.

One struck cleanly into the small opening between a metal chest plate and an exposed neck area. Blood spurted, the Red Templar howled and charged forward. Tower Shield held upright, the corrupted warrior dashed toward them. Evelyn jumped to the side, sidestepping the charge. The ground beneath her grew bright green. Slamming her staff's blade into the ground, she threw a Static Cage before leaping out of the way of another Terror Demon.

Blackwall's horn sounded, invigorating her spirit. Arrows sang through the trees only to strike the green of a Barrier. Evelyn nodded briefly at Solas, her attention back toward the pulsating Rift.

Demons and Red Templars, fantastic.

Tightening her mouth, she threw more bolts of Lightning followed by a quick Stone Fist into the first demon she found. Blackwall surged forward in front of her, eyes on the Demons and not the Templars. Varric taunted behind her, his back close to hers. Solas appeared at her elbow, fire igniting from his fingers. 

"Focus on the Rift, Varric and I shall distract the Templars," he muttered low, exchanging nods with Dwarf, "I've known not why they're here but--"

"More ass-kicking and less talking, Chuckles," Varric interrupted, tossing a handful of traps from his pocket followed by one of Sera's signature bee grenades, "Worry about the how's and what's when we, you know, can actually catch our-- _whoa_!"

Evelyn strode forward, ignoring Varric's shout. She rushed toward Blackwall's side, noting the Warden had managed to garner the attention of most of the Demons. Not all, though. There was one stalking her, she could feel its presence coming ever so closely. Her mark pulsed, power gathering in her palm. Evelyn's fingers twitched. She slammed a Veil Strike onto the ground, knocking everyone in range to the ground save for her party.

Blackwall nodded at her, smirking slightly as he gutted a Demon.

Behind her, she could hear Varric and Solas working in tandem. Bolts from Bianca, fire spells mixed with Solas own Rift magic scorching the earth. She didn't have time to bother and try to help them. She had to trust her team, trust her friends.

Of the two threats, the Rift was the most important to deal with. Templars could be subdued afterwards but the sooner she closed the Rift, the less time she had to worry when a blasted Templar would Smite or Silence her Mana.

Evelyn ducked under the swipe of a Terror, slamming her staff against its torso. She spun, coattails swirling as she thrust her bladed end into the demon. Heaving, she threw it with all her strength before moving back into her stance. Raising her arm, she closed her eyes.

Only to grunt, hard and loud, when something tackled her to the ground.

Her staff slid away from her grip. Claws dug into the dirt beside her. Evelyn slammed the back of her head into her attacker's skull, purple sparks dancing on her fingers before she slammed her palm into its front as she turned. The Templar snarled, head thrown back in pain but lunged, forcing her more into the ground. Fanged teeth caught the light of the Rift, glimmering in its sharpness.

Dark skin, red ringed black eyes stared into her.

He chomped at her, but she moved her head to the side. Lyrium protruded from every part of the Templar's body. Unlike Cullen, there were more of them on this one. Shards jutted from his cheeks, reminiscent of a beard. Several lined the length of his neck, others covered the entirety of one shoulder. If it weren't for the armored plates on her robes, the ones on his chest would have skewered her. 

The Templar looked familiar, amidst the Lyrium but she pushed that thought aside, straining to lift a hand.

As sudden as he rammed into her, Blackwall knocked the Templar off with a bash of his shield. Not pausing to help her up, he swiped at the Templar. A bolt struck its collarbone, knocking the man backwards and further away from Evelyn. Launching another Energy Barrage, she got back on her feet and sent a surge of electricity to strike every enemy in the clearing, paralyzing most.

Yet the Templar kept moving, kept coming closer. The Demons hissed around them, Terror's disappearing into the ground for another surprise assault.

Evelyn threw out her arm, palm open and focused.

The Rift pulsed, throbbing under the strain. Sweat beaded down her forehead before it finally exploded, collapsing into itself until all the Demons were held still while Varric desecrated them all with his bolts. Solas threw a firestorm, the sky above darkening with orbs of fire falling onto their enemies.

Several struck the Templars, most screaming to their deaths but the one that attacked Evelyn charged forward, slamming into Blackwall and knocking him back. Clawed hands sliced through the air and Evelyn stole a glance before resuming her attempt to close the Rift.

There shouldn't be another wave of Demons. They already took the last one out but she wasn't prepared for another tackle. This one preceded by a Smite powerful enough to take her breath away. This time, he didn't stay on her long.

Blackwall, ever reliable, was there. He tore the Templar off her, giving her the moment to catch her breath. Her mana refused to listen to her and Evelyn glared. The Anchor still pulsed, the power still there but not within her reach. 

The Templar roared, spikes of Lyrium suddenly flew through the air, expelling themselves from him. Evelyn ducked, rolled. Solas, unaffected by the Smite, threw a barrier to protect himself and Varric. Blackwall knocked the projectiles away with a wave of his shield but the Templar was there, launching at him and tearing Blackwall's defense out of his hands before slamming a fist into the Warden's face with enough force to strike her friend down to the ground.

Red, horrible crimson, grew brighter around the Templar and another bolt of light struck at Blackwall. A perverted Wrath of Heavenly strike that from what Evelyn could see, knocked the wind out of the Warrior. Evelyn reached for the dagger at her waist, the Silverite blade that she always kept on her after that incident in the dungeons. 

Varric yelled, suddenly in front of her as he pulled Bianca's trigger over and over again. Solas was at her side, pressing a Lyrium potion into her hand. "Close the Rift, the moment you can. We'll distract him."

"The rest," Evelyn bit out, gulping down the restorative.

"Dead or disabled. But this one, he's like the one you brought to Skyhold. He's different from the others. More feral," Solas jerked his head toward the Templar, "Not quite as lucid. I dare not know how long he's been around. Nor do I wish to. But we must close that Rift."

The dwarf smirked at her over his shoulder, "Don't worry about Hero, we've got his back."

Evelyn nodded, dashing toward the Rift. Her Mana was there, just a few more seconds and she could touch it. Pull at it. The Smite the Templar used was already fading but not fast enough. The potion helped but she still needed time. She ignored the growls behind her, not daring to look.

There. _Now_.

Magic surged back, filling every nook and cranny of her being. Evelyn breathed deep and raised her hand. 

Solas shouted, warmth searing suddenly hot at her neck. Evelyn spun, the Templar with more bolts and burns on his body lunged at her. Blackwall swung, close at the Templar's heels. Evelyn danced out of the way, dropping her left hand and slashing forward with her right. The bite of Silverite incited a painful howl from the Templar. Blackwall's sword plunged into the stomach of the Templar, pinning him to the ground.

"Do it now!"

She didn't hesitate. Evelyn closed her eyes and grabbed hold of the Rift. A blast of power and suddenly the vortex was sucking everything inside. The Templar was at the base of the rift, almost right below it.

He yowled, screaming and thrashing against the ground. Shadows pooled around him, condensing and merging on top of him. The Silverite in Blackwall's sword glowed and burns not made by Solas's spells grew bigger from the chest wound and the slice Evelyn had made at the Templar's neck.

Varric and Solas moved to her side, Blackwall stayed near the Templar and they watched as moments tick by.

Each scream he made was louder than the last as the Templar tore himself on the sword in an effort to get away. The Lyrium broke off from his shoulders, his pectorals. Even the ones on his legs and hands shattered, growing brittle before being sucked into the Rift. Evelyn winced, remembering how Cullen had acted but this time there was no escape. The Tear had to be closed and Evelyn concentrated harder.

The shadows darkened, a visage forming and suddenly it shot forth, breaking away from the Templar. It had the shape of a demon, a Rage Demon. It's outline was orange and red, like flames. The Demon solidified and lurched. Claws struck toward Blackwall but the Rift vortex was too much, too powerful. It was sucked in too quickly for it to harm and without preamble, the Rift finally closed.

"What in Andraste's knickers was _that_?" Varric shot Solas a look, eyes wide.

"A demon that apparently possessed this Templar," Solas answered, his own face questioning and speculative, "One that was summoned and bonded to him, if I must guess."

"Great, so not only we're fighting Templars, we're fighting _demon_ -possessed Templars," Blackwall grunted, pulling his sword out of the Templar's chest. "Wait until Bull hears about this. Going to have a field day. Demonic Templars. We're fighting blight-cursed Demon Templars." He continued muttering, foot nudging the Templar who only moaned.

Evelyn walked forward, dropping to one knee. Not all of the Lyrium was gone but a vast majority had disappeared. She could almost recognize him. "He looks to be the one from Val Royeux. The one who questioned the Lord Seeker, don't you think?" She glanced at Varric.

"Think you're right," Varric agreed, finger still on Bianca's trigger as he approached more gingerly, "Damn, Corphyeus must have one hell of a initiation package for his army. Red Lyrium, Demons. Should have ran while he had the chance." He scoffed, aiming his weapon at the Templar's chest. "Bastard won't live long. Might as well kill him now."

"No, take him back to Skyhold," Evelyn shook her head, "If he lives, we could get more information. Find out more on how Corphyeus is building his army."

"You're kidding," Blackwall stared at her, "Are you collecting demonic Templars now? Thought you had your fill with the one still at Skyhold."

Solas answered for her, "No, it's a good idea. If we could find how they are made, perhaps we could help them. Or at least stop him. We know he will have his demon army but we don't know the specifics. If he is converting the Templars into Demons or summoning more, then it would be a good thing to keep him alive." The elf fell to his knees besides Evelyn, "From the other Templar's testament, Silverite hurts them but now using the Anchor seems to rid of him of the demonic influence."

"He's only one Templar, doesn't mean the rest of them are possessed."

"Yet," the apostate continued, "This was the one we saw from Val Royeux, the one with hesitations. He must be of some high ranking. We could use this as an advantage." Solas met Evelyn's gaze, "I shall do my best to keep him alive. I suggest we head back to Skyhold anon and find more information. Perhaps even--"

"I think," Evelyn spoke, "It's time I took Krem on his offer to investigate Therinfal Redoubt."

 

\---

 

His name was Delrin Barris and he wasn't of high ranking like they had thought.

He was only a mere Knight-Templar. Not too young to be a new recruit or having recently taken his vows but he wasn't that high up in the chain. But he still knew something, he had to. He was the only other Templar they had managed to capture alive. The only one who could really tell them the truth behind Corphyeus's Red Templar army.

Evelyn grunted, turning the page in her book. The tome was more detailed than most about demonic possession, a rare Trevinter Volume that Dorian had shipped to Skyhold with Leliana's help but it still didn't give her answers. Even with both Dorian and Solas now helping her quest for research, they found nothing. Vivienne, in her own way, attempted to aid them by petitioning the remains of the Montsimmard Circle for even more books but like the injured Templar, nothing had changed.

Barris was kept in an isolation cell, away from Cullen with loyal (and discrete) Healers and Mages passing through on an hourly basis to keep him alive. To keep him sedated. The Lyrium on his body had started to diminish to the shock of everyone. He started to look almost normal save for the claws on his hands, the sheens of red on the patches of skin where Lyrium had once grown. He was guarded constantly despite his unconscious state.

Silverite was starting to quickly become the metal of choice amongst their soldiers, once Evelyn and Blackwall gave their report of its effects on Barris. The observations of Cullen's own guards added to the theory that something else was at work if Silverite had a part in weakening the Templars. It had no effect on _demons_.

Evelyn scowled, flipping another page. For all her studies, demons and blood mage rituals were on the low end of the list. They meant nothing to her in the Circle. Her interest was more in healing, in repair and elemental magic. She was far from being a spirit healer but with the proper training, perhaps--

_Like spirit healing will be of any help to us now,_ she scoffed lowly, shaking her head, "Not like we found a specialist back when we discovered Skyhold." But in theory, it may work. Spirit healing was different from other methods of healing, magical or otherwise. They knew the Templars were possessed, Krem's early reports mentioned they found more evidence of demon summoning rituals at Therinfal but it was too soon to tell what else had occurred.

The Chargers had only left merely a week, the moment Evelyn and company stepped back into Skyhold. Bull had gone with them, along with Solas. Cole tagged along, at Solas's request. No doubt the Spirit would have some insight but the Guards at Skyhold missed him, complaining softly to their peers that now Cole had left, there was no telling what Cullen could do, would think of doing.

Yet, for all their misgivings, the blond Templar in the dungeons had done nothing, absolutely nothing to incite more fear than the first incident. Even in the weeks that had passed while she was gone, he had simply became quiet. So quiet, the guards had thought that perhaps he had died but in one of their reports, he had grown violent in his sleep. Thrashing and screaming until he woke to pace his cell.

Leliana offhandedly mentioned it happened around the same time of the month, the full of the moon. It mattered not if it was the first or secondary, the full moon was the only variable that remained constant.

Evelyn bit her lip, fingers tracing the inked words on the book before her before finally slamming it shut.

Her eyes ached and she was in desperate need of sleep. Working nonstop for the Inquisition and this research project on top of it? Evelyn sighed softly, rubbing her temples and pinching the bridge of her nose. Sooner or later she would break under the pressure but, "There's so much to be done. So many things I have to do."

Pushing back her chair, she stood with arms raised behind her. She stretched and breathed deep. Her robe fell open, exposing her smalls for a moment before she tucked it back close. The belt around her waist hung loosely but she ignored it, in favor of grabbing the leftover cooled tea from her desk. 

Sipping, she glanced over at the fireplace and waved her hand. The wood ignited, warmth flooding the room and Evelyn closed her eyes.

They flew open when she heard a thud on her balcony.

Her gaze shot to the open doors. Her staff was at the nightstand next to her bed. Too far to reach without drawing attention. Summoning an orb of energy, she balled lightning into her palm. It might have been nothing, falling debris from the stones above her quarters but suddenly--

_There_.

Something scrapped stone, almost like feet?

"Whose there," she called out, eyes narrowed as she stalked toward the doors. Her balcony was too high up, on the other side of the Keep. The only access was from the roof but she would have, should have heard the alarm bells. Her gaze narrowed and she called out another warning, the last one before the Energy Barrage left her hand, striking the doorways with sparks.

A shadow darted inside and tackled her.

Evelyn gasped, landing on the rug-covered floor with enough force she couldn't draw breath. Her wrists were swept aside and pulled above her head. A head burrowed into her neck. A knee pushed her legs apart, her attacker covering her completely. Lips brushed against her neck. She struggled, arching and pulling at the iron grip.

" _Mage_."

She took a double take, stiffening as her back arched. A hot tongue slid against the length of her neck, "C-Cullen?"

His grip tightened and Cullen pulled back, just enough for her to get a glimpse of his eyes. They were ringed with crimson, the gold almost gone and replaced by the black of his pupils. He wore no shirt, the scars on his skin a vivid white against his skin. The Red Lyrium, though no longer dominating his body like before, glowed in the light of the fire and the moonlight streaming from the balcony doors. Something throbbed against her thigh and Evelyn pulled at her wrists.

"How did you escape," she asked calmly, forcing herself to breath and relax. He didn't hurt her before and he wasn't hurting her now. Provoking him would only make things worse and this, this was the first time she seen him. The first since he told her to leave.

His face was almost clean-shaven, a five o'clock shadow darkening his jawline. He looked clean, more human and less the corrupted Templar she found so many weeks and months ago.

The claws on his fingers were carefully pulled back. He held her wrists in his palm. The Lyrium that spiked along his chest were nowhere near touching her skin. He breathed heavily, the red aura seemingly dimming and Cullen inhaled. "Doesn't matter," he gasped out, burrowing his head back into her junction of shoulder and neck.

Teeth grazed her flesh, making her shiver. Evelyn shifted, tugging at her wrists but to no avail. The scrape of raw skin against her own had her blinking, her head jerked, "You're hurt."

Burn marks and dried caked blood rubbed against her wrists.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered against her neck his hips suddenly thrusting forward, pushing her higher against the rug. A hardness rubbed against her clothed sex. "Maker, you smell so _good_."

His nose dug deeper, "Missed you so much. So fucking much. Mage. Mine. All mine." He thrust his hips, rocking against her own. Evelyn's breath hitched and she licked her lips, heat building in her belly but she gathered her Mana back to her fingers. Clenching her jaw, she lashed out, forcing down the powerful bolt onto him until he arched.

Using his surprised, Evelyn struck out with her knee, tearing her wrists free from his hands and rolled out from under him. She ran for her staff, tossing a Static Cage behind her to give her more time. In the distance, she could hear alarm bells ringing, striking loud in their echoing boom.

"Get a hold of yourself!" She brandished her staff in front of her. The Cage gave her only a few precious seconds before it was dispelled. The red aura that faded came back in full force and Cullen growled, snarling loud before he leapt at her.

Evelyn ducked, tucking herself in a roll before slicing the air with the blade of her staff. She caught his shoulder, drawing first blood.

Cullen paused, hand brushing against the wound. A smirk formed on his lips and he grinned at her, a maddeningly insane smile that would have had her clenching her legs if this was anything different. If this was mere play between lovers but they weren't, they aren't. He was her prisoner. He was a Templar, corrupted by the Lyrium. She was the Inquisitor.

The mage narrowed her eyes and threw a Stone Fist at his chest. He dodged, charging forward with a speed that she couldn't match.

Her back slammed against the bookcases behind her, staff falling onto the floor.

"Mine," he hissed, "Promised to be mine. All mine. They told me. Kept saying you were. Accept it." He growled into her skin, his mouth against her bare collarbone. Cullen pinned her wrists, mouthing at her flesh. Evelyn moaned, reluctantly. Fire built inside her and her hips buckled when he pressed his manhood against her smalls.

"Said I had to be patient, had to wait," he muttered pure nonsense against her skin, "Bide my time, wait until you're here. Wait until you're back. _Bewitching mage_!" He grunted low, dropping one hand to palm at her breast band, kneading at her flesh. "Always there, always in my thoughts. Want. Need. _Have._ Too damn _long_."

" _Cullen_ ," Evelyn gasped, his teeth raking against her sternum now, his nose burrowing between her breasts, pulling her breast band down. " _Stop it_. This isn't you!" She thrashed against him, inadvertently rubbing herself against his breeches. It couldn't be him. He never, would never, hurt her. Never attack her. Never like this.

It might have been years but not once had he laid a hand on her. It was always her approaching him, never the other way around. He threatened, back in the Circle but never followed though. "I know what's wrong. I know what's the problem. Don't listen to them," she pleaded, wishing she could break through. Perhaps they had taken too long. Perhaps she should have done something sooner but she refused to kill him.

"Cullen, _please_." The Mark exploded in her hand, green flooding the room.

He paused, blinking hard before shaking his head. Cullen pulled back, his grip loosening, "Evelyn?" He stared at her for a moment, before he winced. "Maker's breath, _shut up!_ "

Cullen glared at something past her shoulder, at the books next to her head. His hips pressed harder against her own, his arousal throbbing but unlike before he didn't. He heaved, breathing hard. His head was tilted to the side as if he was listening to something. He growled low and dropped his hands, placing them on Evelyn's waist. His forehead rested on her shoulder.

The Templar heaved, shuddering against her, "Shut up, shut up, shut _up_." He growled low, clinging onto her as if she was his lifeline.

Tentatively, Evelyn rested her hands on his head, his shoulders, "Cullen."

"They won't stop, _Maker_ , they're so damn _loud_." He looked at her, the red gone from his gaze, gold blazing into hers with pain, "You should have killed me while you had the chance." He groaned, dropping to his knees, his head pressed against her stomach.

"It's alright, I know. It's the Demon, isn't it?" She licked her lips, combing his hair, wondering how they got here. How could the Maker be so cruel. "They summoned a Demon, you're fighting against it."

" _Demons_ ," he retorted, stressing on the plural, "All of us. All the Templars they had captured. And something else. They did something more. Andraste's sword, I could have. I would have--" His voice cut off, eyes closed tight. "Maker," he gasped, "I'm no better than the rest of them."

"Don't," Evelyn choked out, "say that! You stopped. You forced yourself too. I don't know how I don't know..." Her hand glowed a brighter green. "It's the Mark, isn't it? It's helping you somehow."

"If it's supposed to be helping, it isn't. They're still telling me, taunting me," his jaw clenched, "They want me to rip off your clothes. Plunge myself into your depths. Take you, willing or not until I'm spent and do it all over again. It's just like before, always the same. Take, take, take." His voice rose with every word and he scowled, face dark and anguished.

"Let me help you," Evelyn whispered, "Let me in. I want to help. Please. Let me help."

Cullen shook his head, the scruff of his stubble rubbing against her belly. "You can't. There's no cure. I'm better off dead."

Her grip tightened on his hair, "I won't let you die." She vowed on the Mark on her hand, "We'll find a cure. You're always saving me. Let me save you for once."

He chuckled darkly, "I only saved you once."

"You didn't." Maybe in the future she'll tell him the truth, how she used him as her center when things went sideways. How she thought of him and what he would do in her place. Maybe there was hero-worship still in her, for him, but there was more than that. So much more. "Cullen, you're in pain. I'm here. You want me."

It was the honest truth.

"You need me," she spoke softly. "You can have me."

Cullen jerked, ripping himself away from her. "Don't. Don't say that." He snarled at her, his claws lengthening for the first time in her presence. He bared his fangs at her, sharp and threatening. "Don't you _dare_."

He tore himself away from her, ripping his head away from his hands. The pound of armored footsteps echoed in the stairway. Their heads shot toward the door simultaneously. In the next instance, Cullen tore through the room, toward the balcony. Evelyn darted after him, grabbing for his wrist.

She missed. 

"It's not safe. Not for you, if I'm here. You should have left me dead in that cell." He growled at her, glaring. The moon bounced off the Lyrium shards in his shoulders, his aura bright red. Cullen snarled, spinning her around until he had her back against the glass. He leaned down, breathed heavily. "I'll be your death, Inquisitor and I will not _allow_ it."

"Cullen," she whispered, eyes defiant.

His lips brushed against hers, hot and heavy. Sharp teeth nipped at her mouth, tongue forcing itself inside. Evelyn groaned, arching into him, kissing him back just as hard. She fought back, sliding her tongue against his, pressing herself against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. She threw one leg over his hips.

Heat burned inside her.

But it was over too soon.

He broke it off, pushing himself off him. Licking his lips, Cullen jumped onto the railing and stared at her, eyes sad. "Don't look for me. If you know what's best for you, don't come after me, Evelyn Trevelyan. Don't."

With that, he fell.

Evelyn screamed, reaching out for him just as Cassandra burst through the doors.

 

\---

 

He left without saying anything. 

She didn't even know he was gone until she finally noticed a new guard had taken over his weekly choice of solitary patrol. There weren't any gossip, no rumors, not even a whisper that one of the Templars at Ostwick had left.

Evelyn had to ask Lydia, of all people, where he had gone.

"He's accepted a promotion to Kirkwall," Lydia answered, sympathy filling her eyes, "Their Knight-Commander is suddenly in need of a new Knight-Captain and after all he has done for us, it was the logical choice. He already had the Knight-Commander's blessing. And to come so far from what occurred at the Ferelden Circle." Her mentor's tone turned wistful. "He deserves it."

"I," Evelyn swallowed, "didn't know you thought favorably of him." He kept himself distant from everyone, Templar and Mage. Their paths crossed but he still did nothing else with the rest and Evelyn, she always watched him. Always followed him with her gaze.

"He saved you, did he not?" Lydia shrugged, flipping a page in her book before placing it back into its proper place in the bookcase. "The other Templars probably wouldn't have but he went out of his way to help you. He's a good man."

Evelyn smiled softly, "He is. The best. I just wish... he knew that."

 

\---

 

Heavy rainfall was the least of her worries, Evelyn glared at the pack of Blight-tainted wolves in front of her. Holding her staff close, she wished fervently that she had more experience with _fire_ than lightning. Fire would scare them off, buy herself more time for the others to find her. Fire could create a signal for the others, beacon to where she was.

They should have been more prepared but Evelyn had rode everyone hard to this part of Ferelden. She didn't wait for the others to even rest before leaving camp to continue her search.

Rumors had reached Skyhold, rumors of a lone Red Templar matching Cullen's description. After weeks of nothing, they finally had something and here she was facing a pack of wolves without her party.

_I'm such an idiot_ , Evelyn thought fervently, her bangs plastered against her skin and obscuring most of her vision. She shivered in the cold, the rain hitting her ever harder. Mud stained her robes and she watched the shadows and the wolves the best she could. Her mana was almost depleted, Lyrium potions all gone.

Evelyn clenched her left hand, the pulse of the Anchor glowing bright. She growled and took a step forward.

Perhaps if she--

A moving shadow struck, slamming into the nearest wolf. Black with iridescent vibrant blinded her for a moment, a familiar snarl freezing the blood in her veins. Evelyn blinked, her grip loosening on her staff before she snapped her head up. In the next moment, the blade of her staff slashed down on a lunging wolf. She pushed her attacker off her, launching a Stone Fist into the fallen wolf.

The other wolfs came closer but the Shadow intercepted them. Time slowed and lightning flashed bright, catching gold hair and pale skin. Red crystal and sharp claws.

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat. Finally, after weeks of uncertainty. Weeks of finding nothing but a few splatters of blood against stone and no body.

It was _him_.

"Cullen," Evelyn breathed his name, holding onto it like a lifeline.

He froze, corpses at piled at his feet. Turning slowly, red-ringed gold met her eyes. "Trevelyan," he answered, his head canted to the side. "Funny, thought I ordered you to stay away."

"Maybe you should have picked a different area to haunt than your home town," She quipped, "Leliana found out. We're near the place you were born, aren't we?"

Cullen smirked faintly in the next flash of lightning, "It isn't much but, yes. We're near the place I grew up." He shrugged faintly, holding himself still as best he can but that didn't stop her from closing the distance between them. She moved until she was only in arms reach with her staff safely lashed to her back once more.

Evelyn straightened her back, pushed down her nerves of finally seeing him again. He was alive, by the Maker, still alive and yet somehow still coherent. Still human despite the Lyrium that invaded his body. The very Red Lyrium that jutted and covered most of his skin. "You didn't make it easy, trying to find you. I've almost thought you actually didn't want to be found but you're here." _You're really here._ She could feel a smile tugging at her lips.

"And you shouldn't be here," Cullen glanced at his hands briefly before tucking them behind him and out of her sight. "But you never listened, did you? Under all that good girl facade, you never listen to your betters."

"Only when it's reasonable," Evelyn smiled at him, not daring to reach up and cup his cheek, "We've found something. About the Red Lyrium. I can help you. I know you've a demon in you, I can force it out. We can find a cure, Cullen. For you and the other Templars. I helped the mages and now... I want to help you. And the Order."

His eyes narrowed, "The Order can burn for all I care." Cullen's eyes flashed, the red becoming more prominent, "They were the ones who did this. Who chose this. Forced this on others. On _me_." He snarled low, shoulders quaking. His hands clenched at his sides.

She met his anger without balking, refusing to yield. That was her mistake before and she wouldn't, refused to do it another time, "Let me help. Please. I want to do this. And not because you saved me but--" Evelyn broke his gaze, her eyes flickering toward his claws, to the ground before looking up once more, "Because I want to help the helpless. This, whatever you've done, this isn't your fault. You're the victim. Not the culprit. I know that. I've always known that."

He never hurt her. The rumors they had about the Red Templar always mentioned he never harmed the townfolk that flocked back to this region. He never instigated, never provoked. Any harm made was done in his own defense. He kept to himself, only stealing items for food, clothes and other small little things that never mattered in the long run.

"You're a good man," Evelyn whispered, taking a step forward, finally resting her palm on his cheek. "A damn good man."

Cullen laughed, darkly but didn't pull away, "Naive as always. Always so optimistic. Even after all these years."

"Well, one of us has to. And I've... I've known what happened at Kinoch. At all the things that happened to you. Leliana told me. An effort to make me stop wanting to find you. To scare me of but," Evelyn rubbed her thumb just below the Lyrium that dotted his cheekbones, "it only made me want to find you more. To know you went through all that and still be a man who would save a mage from an assault, to defend the Champion of Kirkwall--another mage-- from his own Knight-Commander. To restore order in a city torn asunder by chaos...

"Let me help you. You helped so much and I," she breathed softly, pushing herself up on her tiptoes, "I think it's about time someone helped _you_ for a change."

His eyes fell shut, his head turning toward her palm, "Stupid, foolish girl. Has it occurred to you I don't want to be saved? That I don't deserve it? The things I've done, the things I've said... Maybe all of this is what the Maker had intended for me, a fallen Templar."

Opening his eyes, he stared at her, "But if I say no, you'll only keep chasing me. No matter what I say, what others tell and order you to do." He sighed heavily, "I've only wanted to do one good thing. One good thing. One thing."

"And what's that?"

"Not to taint you with my darkness, my hatred. My lust," his lips brushed against her palm, "It wasn't just demons that they used. They made us into animals, monsters. Fed us with disobedient mages, apprentices. Even Tranquils. Said it would make us calm. Help quell the singing. The others, they," he swallowed, "tore into them as if they were nothing. I can still hear their screams amidst the voices in my head. The demons, even now, they want me to tear you apart. Force your legs open, bury myself deep inside you. Claw my way in until nothing of you remains.

"Maker, I should, I _need_ to be put down." He shook his head, shaking despite the cold and the heavy rain that continued to fall on them both. "You need to kill me. I have to die. I--"

Evelyn swallowed his words, her mouth hot on his. Her hand dropped from his cheek and onto his shoulder, pulling. Her other hand grabbed hold of his neck, tugging until she could kiss him proper. He was taller than he was when she saw him at Ostwick. So much taller despite having no armor, only breeches. She bit at his lip, forced her tongue inside. Evelyn pushed herself closer, close enough to leave no space at all between them.

She hummed, moaning and resisting the urge to toss a leg around his in an attempt to get closer.

"Let me help," she murmured softly, "If it doesn't work. If my theory doesn't succeed," Evelyn opened her eyes and stared straight into his, "Then I'll kill you myself, I swear it."

It took him a moment but he finally nodded, "Alright. Let's do it your way for once."

 

\---

 

He lead her to a small house not far from where he found her. A fire had already been built, embers still hot and the rain pounded against the windows. The building looked lived in and was no doubt where he had been staying all this time. Books, pots and pans were all scattered on whatever flat surfaces there were. A bed had been tentatively made, the comforter the only thing not in proper place.

It was small, the entire building, could have fit in the infirmary tents if Evelyn had to be honest with herself. It would fit neatly in her quarters back in Skyhold, maybe even only occupy half the space. But for all its tiny space, it was still shelter from the storm.

She shivered in her robes, resting her staff by the door before marching toward the fire. "This is where you've been hiding?"

"It was this or a cave," Cullen replied wryly from behind her before kneeling in front of the fire to toss a few more logs, "As much as I enjoyed that cot, a mattress was-- _is_ \-- more comfortable. When I can actually sleep, that is."

"You can't sleep?" Her fingers plucked at the fasteners of her robe, undoing every button with urgency. The flames roared higher but the chill still had a hold of her. Her clothes were soaked, the chill probably never going to ever leave her bones but that was fine, he was talking to her. Finally speaking about something other than attempting to provoke her anger, or worse, get her to kill him again.

Cullen nodded, prodding at the fire, "Nightmares and the Demons. They kept us unconscious during the transformation. Or at least that's what I've always thought. I've... never seen another one being changed. They found too much enjoyment in trying to make me relive that rumor."

Evelyn's eyebrow rose, "Which one?"

"Thought you've known my history," he glanced at her before snapping his attention back to the flames. Her top was gone, her breast band fully exposed as Evelyn worked at the lacings of her trousers, "After Kinoch, they spread rumors. The mages. Supposedly I killed three apprentices before being sent to a special Chantry for healing.

"I... did no such thing, "he continued quickly, "I haven't even seen any apprentices since the Hero of Ferelden saved the Tower and I had been reassigned Greenfell."

"Greenfell, why does that sound so famil--"

"It's a place for Lyrium-riddled and mad Templars as sent to live the rest of their days," he answered quietly, "If it wasn't for Ostwick, I might have remained there. Kept a prisoner while old Sisters attempted to bore me to death with Chants and repetitive mediation that did nothing. Back then... I needed to do something. I needed to feel like I could do something still, that I could still fulfill what vows I had taken as a Templar. Ostwick, and later Kirkwall, offered me all that." He muttered something softly under his breath, shaking his head.

Kicking off her boots and trousers, Evelyn settled down next to him, hands spread out in front of her as she tried to pull the warmth from the fire into her body. "If you stayed there, we probably would have never met."

"A good thing, then," he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Red stained his cheeks, coloring his neck and to the top of his shoulders. "I should get you a blanket."

Evelyn shook her head, inching closer to him, "It's fine. I'm warming up already." She smiled at him, bright and almost blinding. "It's not as if you haven't seen anything else before." Her smile turned into a smirk, head cocked to the side.

Cullen laughed, hesitant and soft. His blush grew brighter, "N-No, I suppose not. I'm... sorry about that, by the way. About before. I shouldn't... I shouldn't have done that. Forced myself upon you."

"I forgive you," she said simply, "I forgave you the moment you left me alone. It wasn't your fault, Cullen. It was the Lyrium, the Demons. It wasn't _you_."

 

\---

 

It took hours for the skies to finally clear. Dawn had already broken and now twilight was finally taking over.

Evelyn bit her lip, stealing a glance at the man beside her. Cullen cocked his eyebrow at her, a smile on his face. Reaching up, he tentatively brushed he rested his hand on her cheek, reveling in the nuzzle she gave to his palm. Nerves fluttered like butterflies inside her and Evelyn closed the distance around them. 

"I don't want to lose you," she murmured, "Not when I finally got you to listen to me." _Not when I finally have you._

Cullen brushed back a strand of her hair that came loose from the tight braid she weaved it into. "I'm not gone yet and Andraste willing, I will still be here. " He whispered softly, leaning down until he could press his forehead against hers. Dropping his hands, he grabbed her waist and lifted her off the ground until she could fit right underneath his chin. 

"But I believe in you," he continued, "And if this is how you... think you would be able to cure me. Or rid me of the worst of it, then I have more reason than before to believe.. I might not have before but, foolish girl." Cullen laughed softly, inhaling her scent. It had been an awkward morning for the both of them, too tired to do anything but talk about Ostwick after he left, about the Inquisition, the theories she had about Red Lyrium and how it reacted to Rifts and her Anchor. So many things left unknown but she had to try. For his sake.

"I'm not a girl," she retorted softly, holding him close before they parted, walking side by side to their destination. "I haven't been since Ostwick, thank you very much. I would prefer you remember that." He laughed at her, smiling briefly before taking point.

"Perhaps," Cullen smirked faintly, "But I've always remembered you as such. The bewitching girl from Ostwick." He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly before taking point. He dropped her hand, his new bearskin cape swaying behind him in the breeze. "Bewitched me from the moment I saw you," he admitted after a moment, "Thought it was one of your tricks but... it was just you, wasn't it? Being yourself."

Evelyn strained her ears. His mouth continued moving but she couldn't catch the last words he spoke. Staff in hand, she hurried after him.

In the distance, the eerily green glow of the nearby Rift grew brighter. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. This time there was no Blackwall or Cassandra or Iron Bull to take the first assault. Only Cullen and she was alone with no other reinforcements. The others, they were still somewhere in this forest but Maker knew where exactly. For all Evelyn knew, they might be on the other side of the lake. Or even in the actual township.

Biting her lip, Evelyn strode after him. His spine grew rigid and she could hear him starting to growl. The glow of Red Lyrium appeared around him, brightening by the second. The moon would appear soon enough. She only delayed the inevitable but if they timed it right. If all their planning was sound--

Evelyn clenched her jaw and steeled herself. 

"I'll take the right dozen and you the left," she taunted, pulling the Veil around her hands.

Cullen shot her a smirk, teeth white and sharp, "Only if I don't take them all first." He barked out a laugh before charging directly into the first Wrath demon he found. Wraiths immediately spotted him, firing their own Energy Barges but Evelyn shot one arm out, a barrier forming around the Templar at the last second. Their eyes caught and Evelyn drew her attention to a Terror Demon on Cullen's flank.

She slammed a Stone Fist into it, knocking it back without a second thought. The Rift was their first priority. The Demons would disappear once they had closed it but she wouldn't permanently close it. Not if they wanted to take advantage of it. It was foolish, to do something like this without Solas, Dorian or even Vivienne nearby. She always had Bull, Cassandra and Blackwall to guard her. Had Cole, Varric and Sera to keep an eye out but she needed to prove to him--to herself-- that she could do this.

That Red Lyrium could be cured.

Her Mark grew brighter and she closed her fist, the first wave of Demons suddenly frozen and paralyzed as she nullified the Rift's power for a brief moment. She turned, swung her staff and sent down the wrath of Lightning upon their heads. The Wraiths vanished without a trace. A Terror demon suddenly was torn in half by Cullen's own hands.

Another met its end by her staff blade. It was all so mechanical, the way they worked. Quiet and efficient. As if they had always gone into battle together, Cullen and her. 

The Lyrium shards on his body pulsated like the Rift, the red in his eyes grew ever darker and more prominent. The gold was disappearing but she wanted that.

His demon was being pulled to the surface, thanks to the Rift.

Evelyn glanced at the glowing green in the sky and opened her palm. The next wave met its end in only mere moments. The third met an early demise.

Seconds ticked by and she could hear Cullen growling progressively louder. Snarling ever louder as he paced the field. His attacks were more vicious, animalistic almost. He leapt to cross distances every time she caught sight of him. She never saw his face. He moved too fast for her to get a good luck but his posture changed, more slouching involved in his idle stances. He looked relaxed rather than high strung but he pounced and fought his way through the demons.

Not once had she feared for her life. He kept his distance from her, only moving close when she was in danger of being tackled. He had his job and she had hers.

Once the final wave had been reduced to nothing more than slime and other bits of gore, Evelyn dropped her hand and turned her head. Cullen watched her, eyes dark and shoulders suddenly tight. He swallowed with exaggeration before prowling his way to her side.

"If this," he hissed at her, "does not work. If it makes it worse, you know what you've promised."

Evelyn nodded, reaching for his cheek. "It'll work. Trust me." She smiled, pulling his head down until she could brush her lips against him. He froze against her but then he moved, softly kissing her back with one hand resting on the small of her spine. 

"Do it," Cullen whispered, "Before I tell you no. Before they grow louder."

Stepping back, Evelyn raised her hand. Breathing deep, she pulled hard at the Anchor. The green of her Mark matched the same color as the Rift but it became even brighter. More blinding. Cullen gasped at her side, his knees suddenly making a thud against the soft grass.

She ignored his heaving, his gasping and shuddering breaths. She pulled at the Rift, grasping at the Fade and tugged hard. The clearing became engulfed with green light, yet she didn't stopped. Closing her eyes, Evelyn kept on pulling. Something was there, something was waiting just beyond the Rift. Waiting and wanting to be forced into their side of the Veil.

Something dark. Demonic. Powerful.

Cullen snarled beside her. She could hear him dig at the dirt with his claws, slashing at the ground. She didn't dare herself to look, afraid that if she did she'd falter. She promised and she would, she'd help him. He was the one helpless this time and it was her turn to save him. To protect him. it was a debt she wanted to repay for the sake of having something more. Of starting something between the two of them.

He felt something for her, she knew that. His every touch since the night before spoke volumes of it.

A shadow befell her and Evelyn cracked open her eyes.

Purple and crimson appeared before her, a transparent image of a Pride Demon with flames like a Rage stalked toward her. Cullen screamed beside her, thrashing. She stole a quick look and her breath caught in her throat. He was in pain. Bleeding. The Lyrium on his body was breaking off, falling off his skin and leaving only sheens of red. The sharp shards on his shoulders had been shattered, blood seeping from edges where skin met Lyrium.

Evelyn dared a glance at the Demon before them, howling in anger. It prowled, arms raised to lash at them but it wasn't there. It couldn't be there.

A chain, bright red and horrific solidified, reaching from the Demon's chest until it ended at Cullen's own. 

The Demon howled, charging forward. Its large claws arm raised and suddenly falling, slashing through the air that Evelyn could feel it coming toward her. The arm grew darker, less transparent. More solid. Sharp as knives adorned its fingers.

It never touched her.

Cullen tackled the arm, grabbing hold of it hard. His own claws raked against the Demon's limb, ripping into it but still leaving it intact. Evelyn dropped her Marked hand, dropped her staff. She fell to one knee and struck the ground with her right. The Force of the Maker, a Veil Strike so powerful, slammed into the Demon from above. 

Light erupted from the skies, Cullen's own Wrath of Heaven striking down on the Demon, in the form of a sword. In one single heartbeat, Evelyn watched as that very limb that attempted to attack her was severed and thrown aside. Cullen heaved, head snapping toward her in wordless yell.

Nodding, Evelyn tore her attention away from the demon and clenched her fist. The Rift pulsed, all sound muted and gone save for a roar from the Demon that had somehow pushed itself back onto its feet. It charged, slamming into Cullen before the Vortex sucked it inside.

The chain that connected Cullen and the Demon twisted, bending and stretching. Loosening almost but the Rift closed itself shut, the chain vanished from sight but there was no clean break. No shattering. Not broken. It wasn't broken _yet_ but they were close. Oh so close. _One more time, just one more time._

Breathing hard, she fell to her knees. 

A shadow falls over and Evelyn looked up to see Cullen standing over her. He looked almost more human, the Lyrium that infected his body almost all gone but still there. The red sheen on his face, his torso and arms was still there. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought. I honestly thought," Evelyn choked, unable to look at him.

He fell to one knee in front of her, lifting her chin. Instead of a soft look and a smile, he glared at her. Snarled at her face. Red and black were the only color of his eyes. Any sign of gold was gone. He growled low, breath hot against her face. His mouth devoured hers, enveloping her lips as he swallowed her gasp.

Evelyn froze, eyes wide. Of all the scenarios she thought of, this was not one of them. He was supposed to be normal. Human. Sane. Not--

Cullen groaned into her mouth, tongue thrusting hard until it slide against her own. He pushed at her, forcing her onto her back. His other hand grabbed hold of her waist. He slid his palm against her stomach. "So _good_ , smells so damn good. Mage. My mage." He grunted against her, forcing her to lie flat on her back. One of his legs prodded her own to spread, forcing his thigh to press against the juncture of her legs.

Through his thin breeches, Evelyn felt his cock throb against her hip. 

"Cullen, please," she gasped, breaking the lip lock. Her left hand glowed and she placed it on his cheek. She focused hard, pulling slightly at the Fade, her strength was almost gone but that was enough. Gold bled back into his eyes, pushing back at the red. His lips brushed against her palm. Evelyn shivered. her breath shaky. Something inside her belly tightened. "You're in control. Fight it. Come back to me. Please."

She wouldn't run. He was there. She knew he was. She just had to reach for him. Just reach for him and he'll come to her rescue. He always did when she was in trouble. If not in person, then through his words. She was strong because he told her to be. He told her to never be helpless and she wasn't. 

Especially not with him here.

"Evelyn," Cullen groaned, voice tight, "I... I need. I need you so much. The voices." He gasped, shuddering against her. "They won't stop. They won't stop talking. Stop singing. I-I..."

He nuzzled her hand, "Kill me. Please. Make it stop. Make it all stop." 

"What do you need," she asked, "Tell me, what do you need?"

Cullen pulled back, forcing himself to lift off her, "My mate. I need you. You're here. You make it quiet. You're making them go away. Your mouth, your hand. Your skin. All of it. I need you so fucking much but I won't, I _refuse_ \--"

She silenced him, covering his mouth with her own and kissed away his tirade. "Then take me. I'm yours. If I can help, then let me. Don't fight this. Don't fight _us_. Let me help. Please, Cullen. For once, let someone help you."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. I trust you." Evelyn smiled, kissing him harder again. "You won't ever hurt me. Never. Trust me to have trust in you. Trust yourself. I'm not helpless. Not anymore. I'm not the same girl you met in Ostwick. I'm more."

"Maker," he swore, "Alright. Alright."

 

\---

 

Evelyn lifted her head slowly. Her entire body ached but in a good way, feeling completely ravaged and sated. Her shoulder throbbed horribly, aching with pain but it was bearable. The mark he left would scar and she loved the thought of it. It was his mark. He made it. She was finally his.

She smiled sleepily, nuzzling closer into the bare chest beneath her head. Dawn was breaking over the tree line, pouring into the cave's opening and strong arms held her close. "Now this, is how I would like to wake up every morning."

A rumble of soft laughter answered her, "I agree. It's quite... pleasant."

Cullen shifted, sitting up while he dragged Evelyn to sit in his lap. Resting his head on top of hers, he breathed slowly, inhaling the scent she carried everywhere. The very same scent that attracted him so many years ago. "It really is a good morning. A good beginning."

"A new start. For both of us," Evelyn continued, looking up at him with arms around his chest.

Light touched the lake, casting a golden glow mixed with pinks and orange. She could feel her smile growing on her face. Finally, after everything that happened, she had something she could call hers again. He was hers, just like how she always wanted so many years ago. The Templar she never forgotten. The Templar she always wished she could have. Hers and she was his. 

Evelyn chuckled, raising her left hand as she examined it. The Anchor throbbed, the green glow pulsing before Cullen reached and enclosed that hand with his own. Bringing it to his mouth, he kissed the back of her knuckles and then the inside of her palm. Evelyn shivered, warmth seeping back into her belly as she felt the hard press of his arousal against her bottom. Again.

"The Maker works in mysterious ways. Bringing you to me even when I didn't want you anywhere near." Cullen smiled softly, brushing her hair out of her face. "No matter what I've done. No matter how many times I tried to push you away, you kept believing in me. I was so angry before. So filled with hate and yet, here you are. With me."

"You just had to let me in," Evelyn leaned up, pressing her mouth against his, "Let me help you damn stubborn Templar."

He nipped at her lips. One broad hand stroked her spine, claws carefully retracted as not to harm. "Equally stubborn girl, I should thank you for giving me back my life. My freedom. Even if it's for a short while." The link that bound him to that demon, it was still there. He could feel it but it was weakened now. The rage had quelled, the song silent. He felt stronger, more whole and it was all her fault.

Evelyn scowled, breaking his grip to grasp his face with both hands and pulling him down until she could look him in the eye, "We'll find a cure. A permanent one. For you and all the other _good_ Templars. The ones I know that still exist. Those that are just like you. I swear, we'll find something. Anything. I won't let it have you. I won't lose you."

"You won't," Cullen smiled, turning his face to caress each palm with his mouth, "You proved it again and again. If there's a way, you'll find it. You're blessed by the Maker, Evelyn. And maybe it was because of His Hand in all this that find that cure."

She kissed him, closing the distance as she shifted, straddling his waist. "We have a start. The Mark is helping but there has to be more to it than this and I'll find it. Not for the Order but for you. Only you. I--"

Silencing her with another lip lock, Cullen pulled her close, pressing her front against his. His arousal throbbed but he ignored it, thrusting his tongue between her lips, running it against hers. He growled deep, one hand on the back of her head, tangling with her hair. Breaking the kiss, he murmured, "Tell me once I'm completely free. It'll give me something to look forward to now that I'm at your side."

Evelyn laughed, eyes the color of the forest around him brightening, glistening with unshed tears, "Alright. Just as long as you promise you won't ever leave me. Again."

Cullen smiled, "I promise. I'll promise you anything you want, darling girl. You're mine. My mate." He kissed her one time, heated and soft. "I wasn't looking for this, for you and yet here you are. The one thing I promised myself to not have and somehow, here you are. My salvation, my savior, my very own bewitching girl to have for my very own.

"Thank you," he whispered against Evelyn's lips, "for everything. I promise, I won't let you down. This I swear on my honor. My life. You won't regret this. You have my life."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely too happy with this so I do have some plans in the future to write Cullen's PoV of these events. I also owe my Kink Meme Prompter smut scenes. A lot of smut scenes that I more or less just either hand-waved or fade-to-black. :/ But given I haven't written anything this in-depth in a long, long time, I'm pleased with the results. Not bad for a foray back into the writing world, I say.
> 
> Still, please comment or send Kudos if you wish to read more of this little universe! I'm taking a small vacay to explore this other bothersome AU(s).


End file.
